


Hardest of Hearts

by meliz875



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Grown Up Characters, Healing, Romance, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:27:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 171,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meliz875/pseuds/meliz875
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years after fleeing La Push to start over, Leah is numb and determined to forget, burying her scars under the only lifestyle she knows. But will a chance encounter from her past teach her to feel again? To remember the beauty in the person she used to be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hunted

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This story is a canon-divergent AU. In other words, I altered a couple canon elements for the sake of the plot. In this story, Leah and Sam were still together when she phased. The Emily imprint happened later. Leah didn't stick around La Push like she did in canon, and I threw in one extra twist that drove her away.
> 
> If you read my oneshot, Sweetest of Words, parts of this will seem familiar. It should. The oneshot was based on this idea and while some ideas will transfer over to this story, parts will be completely different, including the fact this version is NOT all-human, as well as some of the conflict, the resolution and the ending. Overall, this story will explore how pain and loss can destroy someone's self worth, as well as the journey Leah will take to restore it.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

_**Suggested Listening: "Hardest of Hearts" by Florence + The Machine, "Come Along" by Vicci Martinez, "Painted On My Heart" by Cult, "Hurricane" by MS MR** _

" _There is love in your body but you can't hold it in_  


_It pours from your eyes and spills from your skin_

_Tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks_

_And the kindest of kisses break the hardest of hearts."_

The red beneath her eyelids only intensified the more the warmth – the  _heat_  – pressed against her.

Each thrust driving her horrible day, the feelings of helplessness and emptiness, further into the depths of her subconscious.

Tension built within, mixing deliciously with the whiskey-induced haze in her brain. The combination causing parts of her to go numb. All except the parts that mattered. Right now, the only thing she allowed herself to feel was the hot flesh of someone else's hands digging into her hips. The sensation created when he drug his teeth across the exposed skin of her neck. The friction as he moved in and out of her.

Trying to see his face, she knotted her fingers in his hair, pulling back his head. He struggled to keep his hold on her thighs, her back slamming gracelessly against the door to the bathroom stall. The unsteady structure shuddered beneath the force of it.

Growling, she tugged again.

She needed to see a face. Just for a second. It was the best way to remember.

So this wouldn't happen twice.

But he didn't budge, a labored grunt leaving his throat as he unceremoniously fell against her. Clenching her teeth, she released his shoulder with her other hand. Reaching up, her fingers curled around the top of the partition to her right, his cold hand pushing the black dress further up her thighs. Heel-clad feet uncurled from his waist and fell limp, finding the back of the toilet behind him with a thud. Bracing herself.

Swearing silently, the frustration simmered. It overtook the pressure building inside her, diverting her focus from the end result. This wasn't new to her, and this wasn't a new concept, yet it obviously wasn't a task to which  _he_  was cut out for.

_What the fuck is his name?_

_Oh, well._

_It doesn't matter anyway._

Closing her eyes again, her other hand stretched upward, anchoring herself, using the leverage she had with her legs to match the man's movements.

They'd already gone this far.

She was going to get every last bit out of this guy.

It was going to be worth it.

Taking a deep, labored breath, she focused on the friction once again and pushed back the rest. The fact he wasn't tall enough for this. The way his muscles stretched taut under skin. They didn't ripple, moving gracefully when they strained beneath the force of his grip. How his flesh wasn't dark enough. How it wasn't warm enough.

She shuddered viscerally, squeezing her eyes shut.

Stopping herself from looking too long.

Stopping herself from remembering.

Not here. Not now. Not like this. Not when the man before her was the only salvation she had. A brief moment of darkness, obscuring what she desperately needed to forget.

Gritting her teeth, eyes still closed, she matched the man's labored movements with her own. The advance of her hips just enough to set the heat on its course once again, she could feel her skin tingle. In the same moment, the numbness inside returned as the pressure grew. As it overtook everything.

With one cry – the only one she allowed herself to make – her entire body exploded, an intense, delirious sensation. Limbs quaking, she clenched her fingers around the wall, sweat collecting on her palms as her pulse throbbed through every inch of her veins.

This was it. This was what she wanted.

Nothing but fire. Nothing but exploding light behind her eyelids.

_No pain._

Only pleasure.

Swallowing thickly, she loosened her fingers against cool metal, listening to the man in front of her. He was panting as he let himself finish, a pathetic whimper leaving his throat as he did. She allowed her eyes to open just in time to roll them, her gaze flitting to the ceiling as her body relaxed. As the feeling subsided and recoiled into her stomach, just in time for the twisting knot in her gut to flare, remembering – for probably the hundredth time – this never worked out the way she wanted it to.

It only lasted a second. A second she was always in search of. The sensation was always too brief. The feeling always went away before she could fully savor it for what it was.

Pure and intense.

Simple and uncomplicated.

Unruined.

The numbness was gone and almost every part of her was back, her head where it belonged as she felt the man's hands on her ass, giving her permission to let go of the partition.

Within a moment, she was back on her own two feet, the saliva thick in her mouth. Searching inside herself, she found nothing. No shame. No regret. Yet the nothingness settled heavily in her stomach as the man pulled back to look at her, a smirk spread across his features as he reached down and zipped up his pants, chuckling as his fingers fumbled with the button.

It always worked out this way too. They got proud. They got cocky.

This time, she really got a good look at his face.  _So different_. With the curly blonde hair and the wiry muscles of his arms peeking out from beneath his t-shirt, even she had to admit he was a little too much of a frat boy for her taste. But after he bought her a fourth whiskey and water, she figured it would be okay to make an exception. This one had made it easy. Sneaking a glance at his ass when he went to the bathroom the first time, she had the sudden urge to see if the college boy could keep up.

She also wondered what that ass would feel like if she drug her nails across it.

So the second time, she followed him. She was the one who slammed him against the outside of the bathroom stall, fingers curling into his flesh, making her intentions clear from the beginning. Letting him know this on her terms, not his.

 _She_  was calling the shots.

Not him.

And judging by the oblivious look on his face, he became confused somewhere along the way.

Sighing, she leaned against the stall door and ignored his grin as she reached forward, plucking her panties from where they were tucked in the pocket of his jeans. Bending forward slightly, she hitched one leg through them and then the other before pulling them up in one swift, unabashed movement, her eyes now focused on the black tile lining the far wall.

"So..."

His voice interrupted her rapt effort to avoid his glance, and her eyes bounced his way in spite of herself. The knot in her stomach tightened and her jaw tensed.

 _Here it comes_ , she thought.

He'd served his purpose, and he had no idea.

"Can I call you?"

Running one hand through her long, black hair, she scoffed, remembering rehearsed lines she spoke several times before this one. "Why?"

The man blinked at her, clearly taken aback by her pointed rebuttal. "Uh, well...I don't know. I guess I just figured you enjoyed yourself, so maybe we could get together again sometime."

This time, she stood up straight, adjusting the black strapless dress so it once again rested correctly on her body.

"It is what it is," she retorted, reaching behind her and releasing the door lock, easing it open before taking a couple steps away from the man. His mouth was now hanging slightly agape. "I've got plenty of people I know should I ever need a good fuck," she continued, arching one eyebrow almost as if challenging him. "And trust me, you won't be one of them."

Sometimes her exit was punctuated by a string of four-letter words or less than endearing names, but this time, the only noise as Leah Clearwater turned and walked out of the bathroom was the sound of her heels clicking on the tile floor.

The thick, warm air of the bar slammed into her when the heavy wooden door closed behind her. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her dress one last time, not missing the petulant, attitude-filled glare she received from the girl leaning rigidly on the wall just next to the bathroom door. She resisted the urge to wipe the snotty look off the girl's makeup-caked face herself, choosing to smirk over her shoulder instead.

"He's still in there," Leah muttered, just loud enough for the girl to hear. "If you hurry, you might get a turn too."

The busy Chicago bar had filled up quickly in the short span of time she was in the bathroom, which was uncommon for a Thursday night. The air inside was sweltering and pungent with sweat. Bits and pieces of conversation overpowered Leah's silence as she lithely made her way toward the counter, avoiding elbows and trying not to push back when some drunken asshole decided to run into her. Her eyes scanned the room as she walked, and her ears could pick up every lyric of an overplayed song filtering from speakers, fighting for space among the noise.

It wasn't the most savory of places, but it served its purpose. And it never failed her.

Leah's breath escaped her in a grateful puff when she finally made it to the bar, discovering her stool still empty and her half-empty glass resting where she left it. She slid gracefully onto the seat, lightly running the pad of her thumb across her bottom lip before leaning one elbow lightly on the counter.

As her chin came to a rest on the top of her knuckles, it only took a moment for her eyes to meet the bartender's.

She didn't miss the flash in them, the phantom bit of judgment she always saw when there was still enough night left for another drink or two.

Eyes jerking toward the marbled counter, Leah took a deep breath, steeling herself on the inside. Refusing to feel anything. Locking down the flicker of self-remorse she felt deep in the corners of her stomach, at the hands of one of the few people in that city she could call friend.

A chuckle formed in her throat, but Leah swallowed instead, refusing to release it.  _Friend_. He was paid to be friendly, and even she couldn't deny how ridiculous it sounded.

When she finally looked up, the shadow in his eyes was gone, replaced by a neutral fondness she'd come to expect.

"Thought we'd lost you there for a minute," Kyle called out above the din, grinning at her as he swiped a bar towel across the inside of a glass he was holding. Winking at her, he turned and placed the glass on the shelf.

The twisting in her stomach gone, Leah adjusted herself on the leather barstool, a cutting smirk working its way across her lips. Crossing her right leg over the left, her fingers trembled slightly against copper skin, glowing beneath the room's faint light. Accentuating it in contrast to the dress she wore.

"I was only gone fifteen minutes," she muttered, throwing a glance at the clock above the bar before cocking one skeptical eyebrow in Kyle's direction.

"Touché," Kyle agreed, clearing his throat when he bent to snag a beer out of the cooler for another patron, muscles involuntarily flexing beneath his black t-shirt. "I kept your seat warm for you. Made sure no one stole it while you were...occupied."

Even though a part of her liked Kyle, she bristled inside. She was a regular there, and the...benefits she reaped from the frequency of her visits also were no secret to him. It was his job to be observant, and he didn't miss a thing.

But he also asked too many questions. Questions about her life. Questions about her past. Questions about what, like clockwork, led her there at least three times a week.

Questions she never answered.

Which didn't matter because she had a feeling he already knew the answers.

Because he was her first.

The first to feel the smooth flesh of his back pressed against the cool bathroom wall, inexplicably trapped beneath hands and a body more powerful than his. The first one in a town far from home to touch her, to taste her burning skin. To make a dead heart feel  _something_  as it pushed blazing warmth through every vein in her body.

The first to hear words not meant for him as they fumbled their way from her lips.

After that night, it never happened again. Neither mentioned it, but she could feel the questions even when he didn't ask. Night after night, drink after drink, the heaviness in his eyes grew with an admonishment –  _a concern_ – he had no right to feel. An opinion she wasn't interested in.

But that didn't mean she didn't feel it too.

Still, she was good at ignoring it. She was good at pushing it away.

Because what she did worked. It put a bandage on a wound she would give anything to forget.

Even if the cure was only temporary.

Leah blinked, clearing the haze from her mind, her vision focusing on the bar in front of her. "Thanks," she replied quietly, curling her fingers around her glass, the condensation causing her hand to slide up it. Bringing it to her mouth, she closed her lips around the straw, drawing the cool liquid through it while her eyes did a quick scan of the space around her.

Turning back to the bar, Kyle was suddenly in front of her, one corner of his mouth curled slightly as he wiped off the counter, cleaning up the slippery mess left by her glass. "Need me to call a cab or you sticking around for awhile?"

Placing the drink on the fresh napkin he left for her, Leah ran one hand through her long, ebony hair, casting a glance over her shoulder. Her eyes bounced from face to face, table to table, looking. Waiting to see.

She didn't have to wait long, moments later her gaze locking with a dull but magnetic pair of green eyes.

The corner of her lip twitched, the start of a cunning smile, eyes holding the man's stare. A brief invitation. Her heart pounded silently in her ears with each passing second.  _One...two...three_ , before she dropped her gaze, shifting in her chair and turning her back on the stranger.

Setting the trap.

She kept waiting, even though she could hear the man moving behind her, the erratic rhythm of a crowd disrupted when he stepped back from the table.

It was an instinct she never lost, no matter how far she distanced herself from it.

She was being hunted.

She could feel it – the eyes on her, the movements each one made when they approached her. She could smell it in the air, a matter of chemistry she didn't understand but something she could detect all the same.

Fighting the urge to close her eyes – to succumb to some fucked up, inherent need to submit – Leah focused on something else. The eyes in front of her, even though she could still feel it. A heady high that always came during pursuit. The moment before she took control and kept the power and control where it belonged.

With her.

 _Always_  with her.

Kyle was watching her skeptically, one eyebrow cocked in stunned amazement. He'd seen it all. Her smile fell, and the swell of something in her gut changed to ice for a split second, her eyes bearing down unforgivingly on the bartender.

"I'll keep your tab open," he murmured before disappearing, leaving the spot in front of her unoccupied.

By that point though, it didn't matter. Her boiling blood, pulsing through her veins, overtook the bartender's veiled disappointment, setting her nerves on fire just before she felt a cooler, thicker arm brush the flesh of hers.

Taking a deep breath, she relaxed her mouth. She focused, letting the corners rise in the faintest of smiles.

Turning her head, she looked up. Finding the same green eyes and a cookie-cutter smirk peering down from beside her.

And it was gone.

The throbbing buzz in her veins had disappeared.

The hunt was over.

It was textbook, really.

_And easier than ever._

A vicious and inexplicable resentment bubbled in her stomach, but she swallowed it down with a deep breath. Blinking, Leah kept her eyes on the man beside her. This one was different than the last. Shorter. Darker hair. A narrow nose resting below those emerald eyes. Eyebrows that knit close together, framing them.

It wasn't over.

There was much more to come.

It was child's play really. Predictable, the way he fell into her game. It wasn't even a challenge, and the agitation that scratched at her insides flared again.

 _Let this one serve his purpose too_ , she reminded herself stoically. Like a mantra she wouldn't allow herself to forget. _And then you can leave him like you're supposed to._

She'd forgotten exactly how it had come to this.

How that belief seemed to be one of the few things that got her through her days.

The smirk was still there when she threw her full attention back to Emerald Eyes.

"See something you like?"

Leah cringed inwardly at his voice, the not-so-subtle suggestion dripping from it. She fought the urge to grimace, instead replacing it with a passive, sly smile.

"Guess that all depends on how hard a girl has to work to get a new drink around here."

He chuckled a deep, rumbling laugh before pulling a twenty out of his pocket. His eyes abandoned her long enough to locate Kyle and flag him back to her end of the bar. Once Kyle had taken his money, he turned those eyes back on Leah.

"So..."

The conversation was almost always mandatory, and it took everything inside Leah to act interested, pretending she cared about these men and their lives. This one was a personal trainer at a gym in Lake Forest. He was twenty-nine years old, grew up in a small town in Minnesota, and moved to the city as soon as he turned eighteen. He never once paused to ask about her, and Leah fed into it by fixing a rapt gaze on him as he talked, interjecting at the right moments, and laughing when the words called for it.

It would be about him until it wasn't, but letting him believe it would be was important. Necessary.

It assured she got the best out of them. Every single time.

The deal was pretty much sealed, and she knew it the moment he reached out, eyes affixed to her lips, his fingers trailing down the length of her copper cheek.

_Two._

The voice in the back of her head was prominent, fighting for space with the feel of his cool fingers against her skin. It had been a long time since she'd had two in one night, and it should have disgusted her. It should have made her stop.

But it didn't.

Her fingers reached up, eyes following when they curled around the fabric of his t-shirt. She'd gone this far, and once she reached this point, there was no going back. There was no stopping.

She tugged. The smirk was back, and her head tilted back as he bent over her.

As she begged her heart to beat.

"Leah?"

She froze.

She  _stopped_ , and so did the man hovering over her.

Even though her eyes were still affixed to his, she couldn't see them. She barely noticed as her mind raced, as his bounced over her shoulder, trying to find the source of the voice that said her name. Trying to figure out who was trying to piss on the tree he'd already marked.

But it didn't matter.  _He_  didn't matter, especially as the voice filtered through her mind, registering in a place she'd tucked away. A place she kept hidden. A place she never visited.

It was close.

It was familiar.

 _Too_  familiar.

As much as Leah wanted to turn around and tell the owner of the voice to go fuck himself, it was the familiarity in it that stopped her. A knowing knot in her stomach forming as the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention.

_The softness of it._

One she hadn't heard in so long. Practically an apparition, but one she'd recognize anywhere.

Not the one she'd ran away from, but one she'd left behind all the same.

And her heart  _pounded_.

Which is why she understood what came next, even though it should have made no fucking sense.

A frenetic energy – a need to know – thrummed beneath her skin, and she felt her head turning toward her shoulder. To look behind her. To see to whom the voice belonged. She needed to know, even if she was right. Or, God willing, if she was wrong.

Leah wasn't wrong.

And she suddenly couldn't breathe.

Her mouth fell open when she located him a few feet away, standing at the corner of the bar. Watching her with awe and shock, almost like he'd seen a ghost.

He may as well have.

And as her mouth dried and she blinked in disbelief, tearing this person apart with skeptical eyes, she may as well have too.

Because she could feel it. He wasn't supposed to be here. In  _her_  city. In  _her_  bar. So far from home. So far from what she left behind.

With a single glance, she could feel the past six years slipping away. Dissolving faster than she could comprehend. Crumbling around her as a past she'd ran from, a symbol of it, literally stood three feet from her.

"Oh, god..."

The words were choked, barely audible, and she knew no one could hear them. He could though, and that was all that mattered.

Seeing him in front of her stirred up something inside her she hated. His tousled ebony hair fell over his forehead, almost shrouding one of the darker eyes attached to her. Copper arms that matched hers leaned against the bar, and she could see the dark ink, the bottom markings of the tattoo on his right bicep.

One that matched hers.

One she never talked about when people asked her what it meant.

And she didn't know how, but he'd changed. He seemed different. Six years had added a firmness to his jaw, a natural maturity to his features that she'd never noticed before. One that only time could give.

This wasn't the same person she knew when she left home.

But in some ways he  _was_  still the same.

Those eyes were the same.

They were the same pair she looked into the night he pulled over to pick her up off the side of the road, soaked to the bone from walking in the rain to God knows where.

The night before she left.

The same pair that bled with pity the moment before he pulled her into his arms, after she told him how the man that made her this way had asked for his ring back to give to someone else.

After she'd done something from which there was no going back. Something she could have avoided had she been stronger. Had she not allowed herself to be weak.

If she had left first.

A visceral shudder ripped up her spine, and she closed her eyes, hoping when she opened them, he would be gone.

But he wasn't.

If he noticed the disappointment on her features, he didn't let her know.

"Holy shit," he murmured, his full lips pulling into a smile as he pushed away from the bar, squeezing behind the woman next to him. Approaching her. As he drew closer, Leah could feel herself leaning away from him. She only stopped when she felt her back hit the chest of Emerald Eyes behind her.

"Leah? What the hell are you doing here?" Before she could respond or protest, she was pulled from her stool, shaky feet hitting the floor when a pair of blazing arms – a heat that matched her own – wrapped tightly around her. Squeezing, almost like he had no plans to let her go now that he'd found her.

While he may have changed, Embry Call's arms were exactly as she remembered them.

But she didn't return his embrace. Her arms fell loosely at her sides before she decided to pull away, placing her palms on his biceps and pushing. Ignoring the miffed grumbles from behind her. She had to, because that wasn't who she was anymore. She wasn't the same stupid girl she'd been then.

She didn't need those arms now.

She didn't want him here.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," she replied curtly. "A little far from La Push, aren't you?"

Embry looked taken aback, blinking in surprise. "Nice to see you too, Leah."

His eyes were calling her out now, asking questions she didn't want to answer, so she looked away. "Why are you here, Embry?" she repeated.

He paused before forcing a smile, his eyes averting hers for a moment when he nodded. "I'm here for work," he replied, taking a small step back and shoving his hands in his pockets. "You're pretty much the last person I expected to run into while I was here though..."

He didn't know where she lived. None of them knew where she lived. She made it a point not to tell anyone when she left, and those who did know had been sworn to secrecy. She hadn't told them to avoid this. To avoid visits from people – from a life – that was no longer a part of her.

When she didn't answer, replying only with an expectant stare, Embry swallowed again. But his eyes softened by a fraction.

"So do you live here?" He paused, his expression earnest yet hesitant. "Is this where you've been the past six years?"

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Leah nodded tightly, unable to think of a way to deny it now that he was standing in front of her. "Yup...you found me."

Embry blinked, a flash of concern rippling across his features. "Does anyone else know you're here?"

A defensive fire licked at her insides and Leah felt herself bristle, taking a step forward before she could think twice. "My family knows, but no one else..." She released her arm, reaching out and jabbing Embry's chest with her index finger. "And that's how it's going to stay, Call. I've managed to lay low this whole time, and I plan on keeping it that way. I have a life here and I don't want anyone from home ruining it."

Gaping, Embry held his hands up in defense. "Hey...your secret's safe with me, if that's how you want it."

Hesitating, Leah took a step back, smoothing her dress with clammy palms. "Good," she murmured.

She wished he would just go away, but he didn't. Instead, he watched her, intense eyes focused on her face as she stood her ground. Refusing to look away first.

"So how've you been, Leah? It's been a long time..."

"I'm great." The words left her mouth before she could question them. "Never better, actually."

Embry nodded, leaning to one side to let an anonymous bar patron past him. "That's good to hear. Your mom said you were good. That you started over somewhere, but...I still wondered. We  _all_  did."

Leah's blood simmered, her mind jumping to unproven conclusions. Assuming the worst as her brain frantically searched for a better explanation as to why this man was standing in front of her. Why, after six years, he was suddenly there. It didn't make sense. It didn't add up.

"Did he send you?"

Embry grimaced. "What? Leah, I told you...I'm here for work."

"Yeah, that's what you  _said_ ," she grumbled, once again crossing her arms in front of her. "But did he send you?"

Taking a deep breath, Embry released it with a sigh, a disappointed expression pulling at his lips. " _No_ , he didn't send me. As far as I know, he has no idea you're here."

"Well, somehow  _you_  managed to find me..."

Embry's lips pursed in a thin line, a gesture veiling his disappointment. "Dumb luck, I guess."

"I guess..." Her voice drifted off, and she shifted uncomfortably beneath the scrutiny of his stare. A feeling she wasn't used to.

A feeling she needed to get away from.

"Well, I was just on my way out," she ventured hurriedly, looking to her left and finding her clutch on the edge of the bar. Reaching out, she took it between quick fingers before turning back to the man in front of her. She didn't bother to check on Emerald Eyes. She didn't even know if he was still standing there. To be truthful, a larger part of her didn't give a fuck if he was.

Embry's head bobbed in acknowledgement before he drew in a sharp breath. "Listen, I'm going to be here for a couple weeks actually. We should get together while I'm here. Catch up." The tone in his voice was concerned, hopeful.

Leah's face screwed up as she tucked her clutch between her arm and body. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Expression falling in dismay, she watched Embry's shoulders rise and fall with a heavy breath. "Leah..."

"It was good seeing you, Embry."

And with a nod, she pushed past him, barely avoiding two small, blonde girls standing in her way.

Leaving behind Embry, his god damned compassionate eyes, and a past that no matter how far she ran, somehow always managed to find her.


	2. Leave

_**Suggested Listening: "I Gave You All" by Mumford & Sons, "Infinity" by The xx, "Wolves" by Fossil Collective, "Fate" by Lydia, "Over The Love" by Florence + The Machine** _

**Six Years Earlier**

_Leah kept her eyes trained on the ground, feet sinking into the mud as a crack of thunder ripped from the clouds above her, shaking her soaked frame to its core._

_But she didn't stop. Feet pressed on along the side of the road. She didn't look for shelter. Instead, she viciously pushed the rainwater from her eyes, ignoring the cold deluge enveloping her trembling body. Brushing moisture from steaming skin long before it could evaporate._

_She knew where she was, but had no idea where she was going._

_It didn't really matter. The emptiness in her chest – the regret – screamed with each step she took, throbbing with an intensity she wouldn't have thought possible. Telling her to get away. Telling her to leave._

_Just like he had._

_A loud, maniacal laugh slipped from her lips as she tightened her grip around her frame._

_Leave._

_She didn't need to leave._

_He'd already left her._

_And she'd never seen it coming._

_There was nothing she could have done to stop it, at least that's what he told her. Just after he spoke the words that would take him away from her indefinitely._

_Just before Leah caught a glimpse of_ her _, standing on the front porch, peeking timidly through the frail screen door._

_Just before Leah ruined everything._

_But first, she screamed at him, the anger rolling off her limbs in primal, unforgiving waves. Pushing her palms through her hair, she stood in front of him, barely managing to control the rage threatening to tear her body apart. She screamed of regret. She hit him, her fists pounding against his chest. She told him she should have known better. That she should have left him before he left her. Before fate intervened and took the only thing she had left away from her._

_But she hadn't. She hadn't because she was stupid. Because she was naive for thinking it wouldn't happen to them. That it wouldn't happen to him._

_She tried to leave, but it was too late. She stayed too long, allowing the anger to boil over._

_It wasn't soon enough. Not before..._

_Leah brought the heels of her hands to her face, digging them into her eyes, her teeth gritting together to suppress another scream. It was in her head. His words, the look on his face, the look on her face._

_Even though her legs were weak beneath her, Leah kept moving. Each one grew heavy, bare feet caked with mud, but she refused to go any other way. She couldn't do it. Not then. Maybe not ever._

_She ignored the sound of a truck approaching. She paid no mind to it slowing down beside her, to the unmistakable squeak of a window being lowered. To her name being called, not quite carried away by the sound of sweeping rain..._

_._

Leah blinked, the Chicago skyline coming back into focus through the glass of her office window. She looked down, realizing it was the pen between her fingers, its cap against the desk the cause of the obnoxious thumping noise that brought her out of her memories.

Her phone was ringing too, but she couldn't answer it. Not yet. Not right now.

It had been years since she dreamed about home. Years since the memory of that night haunted her sleep, jarring her awake just in time to feel the scream building in her throat. Just in time to swallow it down, to untwist herself from damp sheets, and spend the next several hours staring at the lights from outside as they danced across the ceiling of her bedroom.

It had been years, and she knew why it happened last night. All it took was one reminder – one face intricately woven in those memories – to bring it front and center.

Embry Call.

When she left La Push, the small Native American reservation of her people – the Quileute Tribe – she had nothing tying him to her. Nothing that should have mattered. He was still a kid when she left...all of them were. Someone she'd known her entire life. Seeing his face shouldn't have brought on an assault of memories she tried every day and night to bury, but it did. He was enough. Who he was, what he had done, what he stood for, who he knew. What he was a part of.

Who he reminded her of.

And seeing him had been too fucking much. Even now. Even after all these years...it was too much.

She got out of bed that morning, eyes heavy with the sleep that evaded her. Still, she pushed through it, moving robotically through her one-bedroom loft in Chicago's Bucktown neighborhood. Taxi horns blared from outside, and she could make out the faint music coming from the newspaper stand on the sidewalk near the door to her building.

They were sounds she was used to, ones in which she sought solace. The bustle of the city reminding her that no matter how she felt, she had to push it down. She had to keep moving.

She wasn't going to let one freak encounter from her past unhinge her or undo the life she'd built here. To undo everything she'd spent the last six years trying to forget.

_Trying..._

Still, a part of her wondered why he was here. What had brought him all the way to Chicago? How much had changed in six years? He'd told her the trip was for work, and a part of her still suspected there was more to it.

She also couldn't help but wonder how his life had evolved...how  _everyone's_  lives had. Her mother knew better than to tell her. Even though their calls were few and far between, Sue Clearwater knew better than to speak of anyone other than her and Leah's brother, Seth. Leah's father had passed away about a year before she left, which meant there was never much to talk about. Five minutes would pass and it would be three months before she'd hear from her mother again.

A lot had changed for her, but she hadn't stuck around the bar the night before to tell Embry how much. She didn't tell him how she'd ended up in Chicago after she left home, moving into an overcrowded studio apartment with three other girls after answering an ad on Craigslist. Hating it, because she was never very good at making friends. A month later, she had a job waitressing at a burger joint in Wrigleyville and was enrolled for the fall semester at Northwestern, provided her grant and loan applications went through.

Leah ignored what she left behind. Counted her blessings where she could find them, and decided it was time to start over. By herself. Putting the past behind her. Relying on no one.

On the surface, she was able to. She made it through all four years of college with flying colors, graduating with honors and a degree in public relations. An internship at a large Chicago PR firm her senior year landed her a job right out of college. One with a generous salary that finally allowed her to ditch her flighty roommate and rent her own place.

But beneath the good job, the spacious, modern apartment, and the college degree, things weren't so in line. The puzzle pieces didn't fit so neatly together, and no one saw it. No one knew the truth of it quite as well as she did.

An impatient knocking brought Leah out of her reflection, her head jerking toward the door to her office. Autumn Gallagher, her assistant, was leaning against the doorframe, her fist resting against it and her emerald eyes peering at her over thick, red-framed glasses.

Autumn was one of the few people in Chicago she might consider a friend. She was only three years younger than Leah and outwardly was her complete opposite. Autumn was short and skinny, her frame consistently adorned with mismatched, vintage clothing she found at secondhand stores, and her cropped hair changed colors at least once a month.

However, inside Autumn was full of fire, opinions, and a passion that reminded Leah of herself. Reminding her they were a lot more alike than any stranger would assume.

Leah took a deep breath, finally dropping the pen on the desk and focusing her gaze on her assistant. "Need something, Autumn?"

Autumn cocked a knowing eyebrow. "I have Tony McIntire on the phone. He said he's tried to call you twice and you're not picking up your phone, so he decided to call me instead."

Sighing, Leah ran a quick hand through her hair. Tony McIntire was one of her high-profile clients, a football player who couldn't seem to keep his name out of the news – or his cock where it belonged, for that matter. He was rich, beautiful and a chauvinist asshole, but his forays kept both Leah and everyone at the firm with jobs.

"Did you tell him I'd call him when I got a moment?" Leah asked expectantly, pulling her laptop toward her and swiping her finger across the mouse pad, watching as her email account appeared on the monitor.

Autumn reached up, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose with one hand and clutching the stack of paperwork tighter to her chest with the other. "You do know who I'm talking about here, right?"

A smile pulled at the corner of Leah's mouth. "Did he forget the world only revolves around him on Tuesdays and Thursdays?" she quipped, barely looking up from her laptop as she typed out a response email to another client. "Since it's Friday, you should tell him this week doesn't look promising."

Her fingers finished the last word before she looked back to Autumn, who was peering at Leah skeptically beneath a fringe of crimson bangs. That time Leah grinned, clasping her hands and resting her chin on her knuckles.

"Was he that insistent?"

"Oh, he  _insisted_ ," Autumn retorted sarcastically, her eyes rolling and her face screwing up as she said it.

With a sigh, Leah leaned back in her chair, throwing another glance out the window. In most cases, she refused to do business on weekends. Usually she had other plans. Plans that didn't involve crisis management and press releases. Plans that she desperately needed tonight.

But this client easily paid her rent most months, and with a barely audible groan, she knew she'd make an exception this time.

"Ugh, fine," she grumbled, swiveling her chair as Autumn pushed herself off the doorframe with her shoulder, nodding with a grateful smile.

"Thank god," she replied, throwing her head back in exasperation. "I don't think I can handle that jackass calling me Princess one more time."

Leah chuckled, the sound foreign considering everything on her mind. Still, it was a facade she had to keep in place. "You get used to it after awhile," she murmured, although sometimes she desperately had to keep herself in check around the man. It had been a show of faith from her supervisors when they'd given him to her to manage and she knew what it meant for her professionally if she proved herself worthy of it.

"I will never get used to it," Autumn argued blandly, even though a smile spread across her lips. She paused, and while Leah expected her to turn around and head back to her desk, she lingered. Watching Leah, a look of concern flickering across her pronounced features.

Lifting an eyebrow, Leah looked back to her assistant. "Did you need something else?" she asked bluntly.

Autumn took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling with the movement. "You look sad..."

The question caught Leah off guard, even if Autumn's concern did not. Since the two were pretty much the only females in the office under thirty, Autumn had tried fruitlessly to build some semblance of friendship with the other woman. Leah really did like her, but she wasn't interested in being friends. Even at twenty-seven years old, she was  _still_  no good at it.

Friends liked to pry. Friends liked to ask questions.

Leah didn't welcome either.

Which is what caused her to bristle slightly at Autumn's regard.

"Isn't Tony still on the phone?" Leah asked steadily.

Autumn's eyes fell before bouncing back up. "He can wait. Are you sleeping okay, Lee? You know, if you ever want to talk..." She hesitated, tentatively testing the waters. When Leah didn't respond, she backpedaled. "Or go to lunch or something...to talk, if you want to."

Taking a deep breath of her own, Leah knew she wasn't hiding her horrible night and its side effects very well, so she let an overly genuine, polite smile spread across her lips, focusing it on Autumn. "I'm fine...really. You don't need to worry."

"But I do," Autumn interjected, finally taking a step away from the doorframe. "You work too much, and you know, Chicago's a great city. There's a lot more to love here than your job. You gotta get out, girl. Have a life. Have some fun. Meet people."

Leah held her breath, bits and pieces of the night before filtering through Autumn's words. Of her back pressed against a bathroom stall, cold hands on her hips. A signature smirk, followed by fingers trailed along her jawline.

She had fun. She met people.

Even if it was in her own way, and even if it wasn't much of a life. It was still hers, and it did for her what it needed to.

This time though, Leah relaxed her features but steeled her eyes, focusing them on her assistant. Letting Autumn know the conversation was over.

"Tell Tony I'll meet him at seven tonight. He can pick the place."

* * *

Heels echoed loudly on marble as Leah walked through the lobby of the Park Hyatt Hotel in downtown Chicago.

She stopped in the middle of the space, looking around and scanning the area before checking her watch.  _7:05 p.m_. She was a little late, but normally Tony showed up anywhere from fifteen to thirty minutes behind schedule, so it didn't faze her. Taking a deep breath, Leah pushed a strand of ebony hair behind her ear before turning to her right and walking toward the hotel lounge.

Much to her surprise, Tony was already waiting for her, tucked into a corner table, impatiently checking his own watch.

Throwing her purse onto her shoulder, Leah smoothed her simple black sheath dress with her palms before starting toward him.

If she hadn't detested the man so much, a part of Leah might have been attracted to the twenty-something football player. He was tall and broad, sculpted muscles always strategically peeking out from beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt. His jaw and features were chiseled, and the cocky smile he constantly wore on his lips was the kind that made women weak in the knees and think twice about turning away.

But even if she sometimes fell victim to the same charm that often landed the man in trouble, this one was off-limits because  _he_  was business, and she never mixed business with the whirlwind of her personal life.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," Tony grinned when he saw Leah approaching the table. "Nice to see you, Princess."

Leah fought the urge to roll her eyes, chewing on the inside of her lip instead while offering him a fake, cordial smile. "How long's it been, Tony? Three weeks? Couldn't keep your dick in your pants any longer than that?"

"Ouch," he mumbled, bringing his hand up and rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes never left her though, even as she slid into the chair directly across the table from him. As she placed her purse on the floor, she noticed the man already had a glass of red wine waiting for her – the only thing she drank in this kind of setting. The wine did nothing for her.

"You're early tonight," she quipped, reaching out to take the wine glass between her fingers.

"And you're late," Tony retorted, leaning forward, his forearms pressed against the table.

"You got a date tonight? Or is it another prostitute?"

Tony chuckled, her jab barely making a dent in his over-inflated ego. "Touché, Princess."

"So care to tell me why I'm here then?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and leaning back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. She didn't miss how Tony's eyes watched her, mapping the contour of her thigh peeking out from her dress, following it as it arched gracefully over her knee.

Blinking, Tony tore his gaze from her flesh, finally finding her eyes. "It's the ex again. She's trying to get more alimony out of me, so she's called up her blogger friends at the Sun-Times, claiming I slept around on her when I was on the road the season before the divorce."

Swishing the dry wine around her tongue, Leah swallowed, her expression unchanging. "Did you?"

"Don't see how that matters... The divorce is over."

"You know the drill, Tony. Even if the courts don't care, the papers will. I need to know what I'm working with here."

Tony sighed, his shoulders lifting in a half-shrug. "Meh...maybe once or twice."

Leah scoffed, shaking her head and allowing a knowing smile to spread. "You can't ever make this easy for me, can you?"

"Just getting my money's worth, Princess."

Sighing, Leah leaned forward, grabbing her phone off the mahogany table.

"What are you doing?" Tony asked.

"Emailing your ex's blogger friends at the Sun-Times," Leah answered quickly, not looking up as the pads of her fingers flew across the phone's keyboard.

"You're outstanding, you know that?"

Leah snorted. "Just making sure you get your money's worth, big shot."

She hated how his laugh sent a shiver up her spine.

"Worth every fucking penny."

By the time Leah set the phone back on the table, Tony's crystal blue eyes watched her, rotating his glass of scotch between thick fingers. Tilting her head to one side, she raised her eyebrows, urging him to speak.

"You know, you should use that phone and call me sometime... or pick up the phone when I call you."

"I think you're missing the point of my job, Tony," Leah replied, taking another sip of wine. "My job is to keep you out of trouble, not get you into more."

He smirked. "So are you telling me you're trouble?"

But Leah barely heard him.

Instead, her eyes were focused to the right, burning holes through a familiar figure. A head of raven hair and a tall, lean frame she recognized the second her gaze was pulled to that side of the lounge.

_How in the hell?_

He was leaning against the bar, talking to the female bartender, whose obvious grin and batting eyelashes made Leah sick to her stomach. It was a look she knew well, one that graced the faces of women back home who couldn't seem to keep their attention away from the company Leah once kept.

Yet, in that moment, Leah didn't give a shit about the woman. All she could feel was the anger, a furious resentment bubbling in her stomach as she found herself leaning to the right and snatching her purse from its resting place.

"So I'll get to work on that release, and I'll let you know if I hear back from the Sun-Times. But first thing Monday, you need to make a statement." Her words were rehearsed, scripted, ones she knew by heart. "I will call you tomorrow with the details, okay?"

"Leaving so soon?"

Leah nodded furiously, still not affording Tony a glance as she watched the figure at the bar straighten. She had to get there first, before he left. To find out why he was there. Why he in front of her.

_Again._

Closing her eyes was the only way to distract herself. Her insides twisted, fighting the instinct deep down, until she finally turned her head. Facing Tony as her eyelids lifted.

"Yes. I will call you tomorrow. And drinks are on me."

Without so much as another word, Leah pushed her chair back and rose from the table, her steps purposeful as she made her way toward the bar and left her client sitting at the table.

Leah's heart pounded as she approached the bar, pulsing in her ears, overshadowing the sound of her heels on the floor. Her skin crawled with an unfamiliar sensation, one she hadn't felt so long.

Her body responding to a threat.

She knew he could hear her coming – that if he paid attention, he would know it was her – but he made no move to turn around. To acknowledge her.

And for some inexplicable reason, it grated at her nerves.

She didn't greet him. Didn't say hello, instead approaching the bar, her feet stopping directly beside him as her fiery gaze caught the doe-eyed glance of the bartender.

"Can I get Mr. McIntire's check, please?"

The bartender's eyes widened before nodding wildly, taking a step back before turning to the cash register. In that moment, Leah could feel him turn as well, his eyes now focused solely on her. She swore she could hear the shift in his pulse, but that was it. There was nothing else.

And when he finally spoke, she had to swallow back the fire in her throat when she heard the smile in his voice.

"We gotta stop meeting like this..."

Clenching her jaw, Leah tore her eyes from the back of the bartender's head, her stare fixed directly on him.

"Are you following me?"

Embry's eyebrows rose in genuine surprise. " _Following_  you? Are you serious?"

Leah gritted her teeth. "Twice in less than twenty-four hours? I don't see you for six years, and now I've seen you twice in one day? Don't fucking play coy with me, Embry Call..."

And then he laughed at her.

He  _laughed at her_.

"Jesus, Leah...living in the city has made you paranoid."

But she didn't budge, holding his stare until his smile faded and the jovial laughter disappeared from his eyes. A sigh escaped his lips as he leaned one elbow against the bar, his eyes still not leaving hers.

"No, I am not following you," he replied determinedly. "I'm staying here while I'm in town."

Leah raised an incredulous eyebrow, the revelation surprising her. "The Park Hyatt? Really? A little swanky for La Push, Washington, no?" The words were aloof, even for her.

Brow furrowing, the corners of Embry's mouth turned into a frown. "Nice. Good to see the city's turned you into a snob, too."

The comment pricked at Leah's insides, red appearing in her eyes at his sideways judgment. Gritting her teeth, she tore her gaze from his, finding the credit card slip in front of her and grabbing the pen the bartender left for her. With a flick of her wrist, she scrawled her signature across the line before tossing the pen back on the bar.

She barely glanced at Embry before turning on her heel, fingers curling around the purse strap resting on her shoulder. Affording him no goodbyes as she strode purposefully from the lounge toward the lobby.

It didn't matter. She could feel him following her and hear his muted footsteps on the marble floor behind her, even if he didn't call out. It didn't matter. He was still there.

And he wasn't letting her leave.

Her steps picked up speed as she hit the glass door, pushing it open until a burst of warm summer air hit her face. The sounds of the city assaulted Leah's ears, and she narrowly missed colliding with a passer-by as she headed toward the curb.

When her arm lifted to hail a taxi, she was surprised when she felt a quick, deft hand curl around her wrist.

_Blazing fingers..._

Suddenly reeling, Leah easily twisted out of his grasp, facing Embry. He stood next to her, fingers still outstretched.

"Hey," he finally spoke, his voice soft and regretful, and Leah was surprised when she let her hand rest at her side. When she let his eyes hold her for a moment. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," she mumbled, finally ripping her gaze from his. Knowing that in reality he had nothing to be sorry for.

"Listen, Leah," he pressed on, and she could hear the sounds of his shoes shuffling against the concrete sidewalk. "We got off to a bad start, and I'm not sure why...but I can promise you, I didn't come here on anyone's orders. I didn't come here to find you, if that's what you think."

"Then why are you still standing here?" she snapped, shooting a quick look at him, long enough to see a grimace flash across his features. Long enough for a small part of her to regret her words.

But he didn't miss a beat.

"Because maybe things have changed for you, but I'm still not the guy who walks away from a friend. Not unless you tell me to..."

Her stomach wrenched, the words accompanying a memory that had come to her the night before during bouts of fitful sleep. His words rattled her, squeezing at something deep inside. Something not forgotten, but something she tried not to think about...

Shaking her head, she blinked rapidly, pursing her lips in forced defiance. "I have plenty of friends," she lied, pushing a piece of windswept hair from her eyes. "I'm not really interested in revisiting old ones."

She could see him nod out of the corner of her eye. "Fair enough. But how about you humor me...," he pressed on tentatively, taking a step so he was better positioned in her field of vision. "Have dinner with me."

With a sigh, she gave up, finally lifting her gaze to meet his.

Holding it long enough for his earlier words to register somewhere inside her. To dredge up another memory, one burned in the back of her mind despite the time and the distance...

_The warmth of arms around her. His breath moving through her hair, mouth whispering comforting words she didn't want to hear..._

It had refused to fade throughout the day she was trying to leave behind, but it was enough. Enough to remember that deep down, she knew. He had always been a little better than the others. That he had always, for whatever unknown reason, been kind to her.

And she owed him more than the way she'd been treating him, even if it killed her to admit it.

Because it made her feel indebted to him.

It made her feel weak, and she hated it.

"I don't do dinner," she murmured quietly, eyes trying to look away.

One corner of his mouth turned upward in a half-smile when he shoved his hands in his pockets. "So you don't eat?"

"You know what I mean..." Leah crossed her arms in front of her chest before bringing her eyes back to him, trying to project sincerity, even though the insistence in his was wearing down a part of her that never allowed these things to happen in the first place.

"Listen," he pressed on, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "You don't even have to talk if you don't want to. You eat...I'll talk. I'll tell you why I'm here. Why La Push is staying at the Park Hyatt in Chicago these days."

The corner of her mouth fought a smile, his words a sign of forgiveness. An amicable, kind gesture despite her hostility toward him and his ties to her past.

_You owe him more than this._

But that was the thing...it was a truth that only fueled her reasoning behind turning him down.

She didn't want him to know about her life here. How she lived it.

Or the kind of person she had turned into, unlike the one he'd tried to help so many years ago.

The silence hung heavily between them until Embry let out a rough breath. "Okay, how about this..." She was still watching him, the new confidence in him – a subtle stubbornness she wasn't used to – faltering for a moment. Watching as the boy she remembered flashed across his features. "If we make it to dessert and you're still having a good time, I'll leave you alone. Plus, since I'm only here for a couple weeks, you'll probably get your way regardless. Deal?"

Leah's jaw tightened as she considered it, as she fought her better judgment. As she considered flagging a taxi and getting the hell out of there while she still could.

But he wasn't going to give up, and he had said it himself. If she gave him what he wanted, he'd leave her alone. Embry would go back to La Push. She could go back to her life and he would take the memories with him.

It was a small price, and all she would have to do was for one night pretend to be the Leah Clearwater he remembered.

Even if she had no idea how to be that person anymore.

"Fine!" she finally exclaimed, the word drawing out a smile before she could think. Before she could stop it. She raised an eyebrow at him. "When?"

"Tomorrow night?"

Releasing a defeated sigh, Leah nodded, letting her purse slide from her shoulder long enough to reach in and pull out her business card. She handed it to Embry, the small square of cardstock shaking slightly between her fingers.

It took a moment but eventually Embry reached up, taking it from her grip. His eyes lowered, scanning the card, fighting another smile as his eyes traveled over the words. She waited for the questions. The comments. The curiosity.

But they never came.

Leah's lips parted, still waiting before she blinked, her head searching for words to fill the space. "Call me tomorrow. I'll let you know where I make a reservation."

Taking a step back, Embry nodded, thumbs still hitched in his jeans pockets.

" _Now_  will you go away?" she added for good measure, asking him that time, the tone a little too cutting as she lifted her arm to hail a cab.

Embry held his breath, a small, sad smile still resting on his lips before he eventually sighed. Almost like he was missing the brief truce that had passed between them. "Going." He threw a glance back to the hotel, widening the gap between them as he took another step.

"Okay," she agreed hurriedly, keeping her eye on the taxi as it pulled over to the side of the road. Watching him in her peripheral vision as he took a step back.

 _Just go away_ , she wished silently.

"See you tomorrow, Leah."

His voice was distant as she reached for the door handle of the stopped taxi. As she opened the door and swooped into its back seat without so much as another word.

Except for two, pounding inside her head. Thrumming through her veins.

Go away.

_Go away..._

.

" _Go away, Embry."_

" _Leah..." The truck moved at a snail's pace, keeping up with her sluggish movements. Through the pouring rain she could see him, leaning over the seat toward the window, one hand gripping the wheel. Eyes pleading with her to stop walking. "Get in the damn truck."_

" _Go the fuck away!" she screamed, head jerking toward him, her expression feral and uncompromising._

" _Where do you want to go, Leah? I'll take you anywhere. Right now."_

_The words hit her with a welcoming force, enough to make her footsteps falter, to make her think. For the red in her vision to clear for a split second so she could stop, so she could look at him with a surprised sincerity he wouldn't be able to see._

_Yet he held her gaze anyway, and it was then she realized she'd stopped walking completely._

" _Get in the truck," he repeated._

_And she felt her feet move again, only this time it was toward the truck. Toward him._

_She couldn't explain why she was shaking when she pulled the door closed behind her, fingers fumbling against the window knob, cranking it until the glass was in place. Shutting out the rain and the cold. Water dripped from her body, soaking the upholstery, hitting the vinyl mats beneath her feet, and if Embry noticed or cared, he didn't say a word._

_Expecting him to drive, she watched as he reached up, shifting the truck into park and removing his foot from the brake._

_Leah's heart pounded in her chest, and she tried to feel angry, but there was nothing left inside her. Nothing but defeat. At least not in that moment._

" _Drive," she growled._

_She could hear Embry take a deep breath from across the cab. Nothing in her life was a secret, and she knew what was coming. She always knew, because they always knew. Every move. Every word. Everything that happened before she had a chance to speak._

_Her pain was theirs, but in that moment, she found that very hard to believe._

_But something told her to trust Embry. Call it an instinct, but it was something she always felt. The day she first phased, when the legends of their tribe proved to be true – when the fever consumed her body and her frame shifted, bones realigning and skin giving way to sleek, silver fur – his voice was the first one she heard in her head, clear among the terror, among the jumbled mess of her own frantic thoughts. Telling her to breathe. Telling her to wait. Telling her he would be there._

_Just like he did when it happened only an hour earlier._

_Just like he was in that moment._

_He took another breath. "Are you okay?"_

_She scoffed, the noise turning into another irrational laugh. Hiding the truth beneath it. "Am I okay? Am I_ okay _? You know what happened...you saw it," she murmured, rubbing her face with her hands, slicking the remaining raindrops from her flesh._

_Embry paused, the silence thick in the cab of the truck. "Sam imprinted..."_

_She nodded violently, the word burning like acid in her mouth. Imprint. It was something inherent to their kind. To shifters. A way to perpetuate the gene. A way for their spirit animal – their wolves – to recognize their perfect mate in another._

_It hadn't been her._

_She was not Sam Uley's imprint, and if choice had mattered when it came to what they were, it would have been enough._

_It hadn't been enough._

_But his imprint had been the closest thing to Leah. Her cousin. Her best friend. Emily Young._

_And Leah didn't understand. She burned as the truth replayed in her mind. As she saw Emily's face in her mind's eye, just moments before..._

" _He asked for his ring back...I was almost to the door." The words spilled from her mouth, saliva thick in her mouth. "I lost it, Embry...I lost control. I just..." Leah couldn't breathe, the air in the truck suddenly stifling. A heaviness settled in her chest, twisting at her insides. She could still feel moisture on her face, but when she reached up to wipe it away, it wasn't rain. Salty, searing tears spilled from her eyes, and she hadn't even noticed._

_And they wouldn't stop._

_She was losing control again, but in a way she didn't recognize. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to stop the tears. To hide in the darkness behind her eyelids._

" _I lost it," she repeated, shaking her head. It was her voice, but she had no control over the words. "I lost it, and she was too close. I...she..."_

_The images flashed through her mind, remembering. It was impossible not to. Leah shook beneath the weight of it all. Of her vision shimmering, of her cousin's wide eyes, her body frozen in place. The sound of bones realigning. Of the screen door giving way beneath a pressure it couldn't withstand. Of Sam's cries, pleading with Leah to stop. For Emily to run._

_But she hadn't run._

_She should have fucking ran._

_Leah could hear voices in her head, familiar ones, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. All she could focus on was the anger, consuming her from the inside out, the reds of rage overtaking it all._

_Until it was replaced by something else. Another red, cascading down her cousin's beautiful face in crimson streams. The silence was thick and heavy, save for sound of Leah's rough, purposeful breaths escaping canine lungs. She hovered over her cousin, all reason lost, until those brown eyes looked up at her, watching her with horror. Like Leah was a stranger._

_And it hit her all over again._

_What had happened – why it happened – was reinforced when Sam appeared in front of her as well. Ordering her back. She could feel a semblance of control returning, powerless to his demand. Body pulling in on itself until she was once again standing on two legs, naked and struggling to breathe. Sam knelt beside Emily, talking quickly about a doctor and a hospital, pausing just long enough to look up at Leah, whose feet were rooted to the floor._

_One word was all he said._

" _Leave."_

_The rain had washed it all away, but Leah swore she could still smell it. The blood beneath her fingernails. On her forearms. In her hair. It burned her nostrils, despite the fact she couldn't see a single trace of it on her flesh._

" _I wanted to kill her..." Leah's voice was a whisper, almost swept away by the sound of rain splattering against the truck's windshield. "I wanted to kill him...for leaving. But it should have been me...like he said..."_

_She opened her eyes then, slowly turning her head, facing the man in the seat next to her. He was watching her, his jaw tight and his eyes blazing with sympathy but not quite masking something else that rested in them._

_Understanding._

_Lips parting, her eyes refused to leave Embry's. "It should have been me," she repeated. "I should have left. I should have never let it get that far."_

_He moved quickly, breath leaving him in a helpless rush. As he tried to figure out what he could say. What he could do to make it right. To make it better. He'd always been a fixer. At seventeen years old, he still thought even the most lost causes could be saved._

_He was as stupid as she was._

_Still, she was surprised how willingly she let herself be pulled into his arms, the hard plastic of the truck's console digging into her hip. No one else had come looking for her, and still she barely felt it. She barely felt_ anything _, except for the warmth of the arms around her. Except for the way his breath moved through her hair, his mouth whispering comforting words she didn't want to hear._

" _It'll be okay...It wasn't your fault."_

_Words that didn't matter, regardless of who said them._

_Pushing Embry away, she turned, pressing her body against the door. Leaning her forehead against cool glass. Feeling the last tear escape her eye._

" _Where do you wanna go, Leah?" His voice was a pained, desolate whisper._

_She sighed, expelling the last bit of feeling or regard she held for that world when the air left her lungs._

" _Home," she whispered. "Just take me home."_

_And he had, but the next night – as Seth slept and her mother worked the night shift at the hospital – Leah packed a bag, tucking all the money she'd saved since turning fourteen deep inside a pair of shoes at the bottom. After leaving a note for her mother, she left the house shrouded by darkness, but she didn't dare phase. She didn't dare run._

_Never again, she promised herself._

_She walked all the way to the bus station in Port Angeles, the soft oranges and yellows of the early-morning sun peeking over the horizon by the time she finally got there._

_As the bus pulled away, Leah stared forlornly out the window. Making a plan to forget. Making promises to herself. Swearing none of it would ever happen again. She didn't need Embry's help. Telling herself he and Seth and the others could have their pack and their legends and everything it cost them. That Sam and Emily could have their perfect life. That he'd never see the scars he left on her, and she'd never see the ones she left on her cousin._

_Promising herself she'd never let herself get close enough to hurt someone else._

_That she would never let someone get close enough to hurt_ her _.  
_

_That she would forget this life and what it cost her._

_No matter how far she had to go to do it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, SOME answers in this chapter hopefully, and a little background. Obviously this is canon divergent, so what did you guys think of the twist? Of how it's affected Leah in conjunction with everything else?
> 
> Then there's Embry...all grown up. *sigh*
> 
> Updates will be once a week after this week, unless my chapter cushion continues to grow, which I like to keep in case life gets in the way of writing time. :)
> 
> Thoughts?


	3. Hesitate

_**Suggested Listening: "O Sister" by City and Colour, "Hearts A Mess" by Gotye, "Everything and Nothing" by The Boom Circuits, "Knife" by Grizzly Bear, "Heart of Stone" by Iko, "Dead In The Water" by Ellie Goulding** _

" _So how's it going out there? The first meeting is scheduled for Monday, right?"_

Embry pressed the cell phone harder to his ear while leaning his forearms against the metal railing of the terrace attached to his hotel room. His eyes swept over the Chicago skyline, scanning Lake Michigan behind the glistening skyscrapers. While the city was definitely exciting, a part of him already missed home. The peace, the wide-open spaces, the scent of fresh rain and pine greeting him every morning when he woke up.

Regardless, the sun had barely been up two hours before his phone rang. He was daft enough to think the trip might actually pass as some kind of a vacation where he'd get to sleep in, but the absurdity of it was hammered home when he reached out to silence the shrill ringing, face still buried in an oversized feather pillow and five hundred thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets.

 _The accommodations here definitely have one up on home_ , he admitted to himself before locating the phone.

Embry wasn't surprised to see Jacob Black's name on the caller ID when he finally emerged from his den of pillows and blankets, but he didn't hesitate to release a groan before hitting the key to answer.

"Don't you have a pack to alpha or a garage to open or something?" Embry had grumbled into the phone, rolling over on his back and using the back of his hand to groggily wipe the sleep from his eyes.

Jake had talked long enough for Embry to roll out of bed, peel back the curtains, and open the terrace doors, letting in morning noises he wasn't used to – car horns, road construction, and the constant hum of traffic several floors below him. Listening to Jake ramble, Embry couldn't help but wonder what it was Leah found so appealing about this kind of life.

_Leah..._

He was still reeling from it, to be honest. From seeing her after so many years. She wasn't just some random person, an old acquaintance who had decided to move away from home one day. She was pack – a person inextricably bound to Embry, Jake, and all the others who were part of something bigger than the everyday. They were spirit warriors, protectors of their tribe. Bound for life, no matter what direction they went. Through the mental link they shared as part of that bond, Embry had seen the deepest corners of Leah's mind. He'd touched her soul, just as she had his and every other person in their pack.

Perhaps his more than others, and he cared about her. In a way he couldn't really explain, except for the fact he had been there when it happened.

When it  _all_  happened.

The night she first phased - a female wolf, the first and only one of her kind. He'd gotten there first – before Sam, before Jake. Before any of them. She lay there in the trees just to the north of her house, still in wolf form, trembling, anxious whines escaping her throat. Her thoughts a mix of tangible fear and confusion.

He was a protector, not only as a wolf but a man as well, and what laid before him pricked at something he was all too familiar with. He'd spent his entire life taking care of his mother, who had no one except him and a perpetual sadness in her eyes that never seemed to go away. From the time he was old enough to speak and understand, he was required to be a pillar of strength for her. Growing up long before he should have. Understanding fear and sadness in a way very few people his age did.

So once he was there, he hadn't said a word. Instead, he simply went to Leah, lying down on the ground beside her, his muzzle brushing along hers. Simply touching her – being there – until her thoughts slowed. Until her breaths were even.

Coaxing her back, until she was able to return to her human form.

It was the only time she'd needed him in such a way, and she'd shifted back for him.

She had taken well to the transformation. Much better than he had, even more so than Jake. Embry was in awe of Leah, admiring her from afar. It was something he wasn't used to – her strength, an inherent fire within, the love and determination she was capable of carrying in her heart for her family and the pack.

For Sam.

Despite the burden she was asked to bear.

Until it all ended. It all crashed down because of that very same burden.

Until she needed him again, even though she never asked.

Yet Leah had removed herself, unaccepting of anything he tried to offer her. She'd left, gone before any of them could really process what had happened, and her absence was something none of them could forget. Something none of them could stop feeling.

But years passed, and the likelihood of them hearing from her - of finding out where she went - decreased with each passing day. Their lives went on. They adapted. Covering the hole the best they could but never really filling it, they kept going without her, and most of them had given up hope of her ever coming home.

Except for Embry.

Yet the shock he'd felt at seeing her in that bar, and then again at the hotel lounge, was still thick in his system.

Outwardly she had changed, that much was certain. To anyone else who might not have known her, she probably came off as cold, but to Embry, she seemed...guarded. Distant, like she'd built walls so high it would be impossible for anyone to climb them.

Walls created by the very things that drove her away from La Push in the first place.

Embry couldn't blame her, although a part of him had always hoped the distance would help her. That the space would help her find another identity. Perhaps a better one. A place in a world outside the one that had forced her to deal with more pain than any one person should be expected to.

But standing on the curb while she waited for a taxi, avoiding his eyes at all costs, it was clear he might have hoped for too much.

Until he saw her smile. Until he'd seen that person she was before...

If there was one thing Embry believed it was everything happened for a reason. There was a reason he went to that bar, and there was a reason this was the hotel Jake made arrangements for him to stay. One with a lounge where Leah happened to meet a client the night before.

Even if he had no idea yet what that reason was.

" _So everything should be in line then. You getting out at all, bro? How's the city?"_

Blinking, the sound of Jake's voice brought Embry out of his daydreaming. Fingers curling around the terrace railing, he had to fight the urge to tell Jake the full truth about how his trip was going. He knew Jake would want to know, but Leah had made it clear she didn't want anyone from home knowing she was in Chicago, and he wasn't the kind of person who would break a promise simply to get something heavy off his chest.

"Yeah, a little," he murmured, scrubbing one hand through his shaggy, ebony hair as he straightened, turning back toward the terrace door. "Wouldn't want to live here though."

" _Yeah, I suppose the streets of Chicago are a little different than the forest trails of La Push, huh?"_

Embry chuckled, sliding open the door and slipping through it into the silence of his hotel room. "Not quite the same, no." Walking toward the bathroom, he flipped on the light, bathing the room in a soft, yellow glow. "How's Bella doing?"

" _You mean besides the unexpected emotional breakdowns and wacky pregnancy cravings? She's great..."_

Smiling, Embry let his fingers run along the marble surface of the bathroom sink. Jake's wife, Bella, was about six months pregnant and was just reaching the stage where things in their house were starting to get weird. Embry had lost count of the number of times he'd shown up at the garage in the morning to open only to find Jake sleeping on the ratty couch in the office. Or the times Jake would make  _him_  run to the store in the middle of the day to fetch Bella crap like canned sardines, ice cream, or salt and vinegar chips.

"Well, tell her I said hi," Embry added, his fingers landing on the square piece of cardstock he'd taken out of his jeans pocket the night before and placed on the counter for safekeeping. "And that I'm sorry I'm not there to get her those double-bacon chili burgers from the diner she loves these days."

" _Ha. You should be apologizing to me for that, man, but I will. Call me Monday after the meeting, got it?"_

"Jake...I've got it."

" _Yeah, yeah, I know. Call me anyway. And get out and do something. Enjoy yourself a little. It's a tiny part of the reason I sent you to do this."_

Sighing, Embry nodded at thin air, letting the smile lessen by a fraction. "Got it, Chief."

Embry lowered the phone from his ear, hitting the end key before setting the phone on the counter. His eyes shifted down to the business card on which his fingers now rested, eyes scanning the name and locating the cell phone number tucked in the corner, typed out in small numbers.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up his phone again while scooping up the business card in the other hand, fingers sweeping over the keys and dialing the number.

In terms of why he was there, he had everything under control.

But Jake had told him to get out, and he planned on it.

* * *

"This is fucking stupid."

Leah stared at her reflection in the mirror attached to her closet door. She was now on outfit number three, and for some reason, nothing she tried on seemed to look right. She had something in mind for this dinner she'd give anything to get out of. An image she needed to project. One that would satiate Embry's insistence and ensure that after tonight, he'd go back to La Push and live his life without worrying about her and her well-being.

But nothing was working. Everything she tried on that  _wasn't_  meant for business – plunging necklines, shortened hems – was all wrong.

So instead she stood in her underwear, fingers grazing aimlessly over silky, caramel flesh, staring at her own frustrated scowl as she tried to think. It was now a quarter to eight, and she was supposed to meet Embry at Blackbird restaurant in less than forty-five minutes.

It really was the last place she wanted to spend a Saturday night, away from the bar she was used to. Away from the life she lived under the cover of low lights, loud music, and Templeton.

That place didn't feel like she did at that moment, and she fucking hated it. It was the exact feeling she was trying to get away from.

But there was another feeling buried deep inside her. An odd anticipation she couldn't place, but one she couldn't seem to dismiss either.

Regardless, she didn't waste any time trying to figure it out.

She didn't  _have_  time to figure it out if she was going to get this over with.

"Fuck it."

With a groan, she stomped back into her walk-in closet, letting her hands hover over the hanging garments for a moment before making a decision, telling herself she wasn't changing again.

She took only a moment to slip into the dress – a black, one-shoulder number with a banded waist that draped in all the right places. It was still too short for a casual dinner with someone she could barely call a friend, but it would have to do.

Even so, she told herself it would transition well if she somehow found a way to call it an early night. In reality, it didn't matter what she wore; she'd convince Embry she was fine one way or another. He'd likely come to his own conclusions, and it wouldn't be through some facade she put forward, mostly because he was always too observant for his own damn good.

Regardless, whatever they were, he'd be forced to deal with them.

Giving herself one last once-over in the mirror, she stepped into a pair of silver pumps before grabbing her clutch off the dining room table and leaving the loft.

It was a short taxi ride to the restaurant, one she'd been to with clients many times. She fiddled with the hem of her dress as the car made its way there, her foot twitching anxiously the closer they got to her destination.

Leah took a deep breath and closed her eyes, desperately trying to pull herself together. To prepare herself for what waited for her. She could do this, even if she felt horribly out of her element. It was too exclusive. Too...intimate, but he promised he wouldn't ask questions, and at this point, she was holding onto that vow as if it were her last lifeline.

It also was the only thing stopping her from telling the taxi driver to turn around and take her anywhere other than where she was headed.

 _You're stronger now_ , she told herself.

_You can do this._

Her nerves settled a bit just before the cab turned onto Randolph Street. Taking one last deep breath, Leah felt her phone vibrate inside her clutch, causing her stomach to twist in knots yet again as she reached to pull it out.

The name appearing on the screen immediately squelched the burn.

Jason.

Holding the air in her lungs, Leah opened the text message.

_Out tonight?_

Hesitating, she looked up from the phone, watching the restaurant come into view as the taxi started to slow. She had met Jason more than a year ago in the bar she frequented, and he also was one Leah had decided to keep around. It wasn't anything more than the text displayed on her phone, but something about him the first night they were together prompted her to give him her number before she walked away.

Leah swallowed, looking back at her phone. He had put up a fight that night. Challenged her. He had made the hunt worthwhile, both during and after.

Now, he filled that need for feeling when she wasn't in the mood for games. When all she wanted was something quick, consuming, and raw...

And he was entirely  _too_  good at giving her what she needed.

Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, Leah took a deep breath, replying with heavy fingers as the taxi pulled to a stop outside the restaurant.

_Not right now. Dinner with a friend. Maybe later._

A warm gust of air hit Leah's overheated skin as the restaurant valet opened the taxi door for her. With a grateful smile, she tucked the phone inside her clutch before her frame unfolded, stepping from the car. Barely noticing the feel of her phone vibrating against her wrist, she pushed it to the back of her mind, thanking the valet and approaching the restaurant.

Inside, the small dining room was packed with patrons. Pausing, she scanned the room quickly before the hostess just inside the entrance greeted her, offering Leah a friendly smile when she turned her gaze on the woman.

"Under what name is the reservation?"

Leah cleared her throat, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear. "Uh...Clearwater. For two?"

"Of course," the hostess pressed on. "The other half of your party is already here." Knowing eyes flicked toward the end of the long row of seating against the far wall of the restaurant.

"Thank you," Leah acknowledged, giving the hostess a nod before throwing every ounce of strength into her long, slender legs, forcing them to carry her forward.

He was sitting at the last table closest to the kitchen. Lips parting, Leah hesitated for a moment, trying to find an airtight place to put the crawling sensation just beneath her skin. Wondering if she should say something first.

But he beat her to it, peering over his shoulder just slightly, his ebony eyes immediately finding hers.

_Those eyes._

Leah's footsteps fell short, and she was no longer moving. She didn't know how it was possible for so much to change – how so many things in their lives could be different – yet those eyes were exactly the same. The look in them. The  _goodness_. Like time hadn't touched them or the person who possessed them.

It was unnerving in the worst possible way.

Leah remembered to breathe when he rose lithely to his feet.

"Wow..." Embry's eyes were wide, fighting a smile as he stood, fingers pushing awkwardly through his hair. Almost like he wasn't sure what to do with his hands. "You look...amazing."

Taking a deep breath, Leah smiled gingerly, although it wasn't as hard as she expected it would be. Pausing for a moment, she held Embry's gaze, allowing him to watch her while letting her own eyes sweep unabashedly over his frame. He was wearing a tailored white shirt, the top few buttons casually undone and the sleeves rolled to his elbows. His dark wash jeans looked brand new, and he'd swept his hair back carefully across his forehead.

Pursing her lips, Leah again found herself fighting a smile. "You look...exactly the same."

At her words, Embry let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head in amusement as he finally looked away. "I guess I'll take that as a compliment," he murmured, his eyes bouncing back to hers. "Wanna sit?"

Nodding, she gripped her clutch in front of her midsection, stepping around Embry and sliding gracefully into the booth seat against the wall. "Did you have any trouble finding the place?" she questioned, peeking at him once more as she smoothed her dress over her thighs, carefully crossing her legs beneath the table.

Embry shrugged. "Concierge at my hotel has been pretty good about those kinds of things."

The corner of her lip pulled upward again as Leah reached toward the table, realigning her silverware by a fraction of an inch. Trying to find something to do with  _her_  hands. The shadow of their waiter appeared over the table by the time she reached for her water glass, rigidly bringing it to her lips before taking a sip. Wishing desperately that the glass contained something a little...stronger.

"Can we get a bottle of the Pedestal Merlot, please? Yes...thank you."

Leah paused, peering at Embry over the rim of her water glass before lowering it. He leaned his forearms against the table, meeting her gaze with an easy smile. One eyebrow lifted as she watched him. "Merlot, huh? I'm impressed," she murmured carefully, trying her best to not put him off.

Embry shrugged, and Leah couldn't help but notice how at ease he seemed. Save for his greeting, he wasn't missing a beat.

"This isn't my first time," he replied. It was his turn to raise his eyebrows. "Is wine alright?"

Leah waved her hand in front of her, shaking her head slightly. "No, that's...perfect."

"Good," he murmured, eyes flicking downward. "Wasn't sure what you'd like. If I had my way, I'd be okay with a plain old beer, but...this place doesn't look like it carries anything like that." He let his eyes quickly sweep the small restaurant as the words left his mouth.

The anxiety was ebbing slightly the more Leah breathed, the more she watched the ease radiating from the person across the table from her. The more he silently reassured her he wasn't going to bring up things she wasn't ready to talk about.

"Well, they have beer but it usually doesn't go very well with foie gras and elk loin."

Embry's face screwed up in amusement as the waiter reappeared with their bottle of red wine. "I have no idea what you just said, except for the elk part...but I'm pretty sure it goes with everything. That may just be me though..."

Leah didn't respond, pulling her bottom lip awkwardly between her teeth, letting the silence settle over their table as the waiter uncorked the bottle and poured them each a glass. She interjected only to order for an appetizer. Once the waiter was out of earshot, Embry's eyes settled on her, lips parting to speak.

"So let's cut the small talk," Leah interrupted pointedly, raising an eyebrow as Embry gaped at her, mouth still open from the words he never got a chance to say. "You...in Chicago. What's up with that?"

Embry released a breath, relaxing against the back of his chair while his fingers played with the stem of the wine glass. "You don't waste any time these days, do you?"

"Not really," she replied unapologetically, the slight smile returning when she said it.

Inhaling, Embry held it in his lungs before letting it out in a rush. "I'm meeting with a potential investor."

The words caught Leah's attention, and her eyes widened instinctively. "An investor?"

Embry nodded, taking a sip of wine and grimacing a little bit before continuing. "To finance a new business."

He paused, almost as if waiting for Leah's reaction. Feeling her out to see how much he should say. When she nodded diplomatically, he continued. " _My_  new business hopefully...if everything plays out the way it's supposed to."

"Really..." Leah couldn't think of anything better to say, the words surprising her. Replaying each one in her head, she let them sink in. It was hard for her to picture it – the thought of Embry being in town because he was trying to start a business. A  _business_. The last time she'd seen him he wasn't even out of high school.

_The last time she'd seen him..._

"Tell me about it." Changing the subject, the words slipped from her mouth before she could stop them.

Embry's features warmed at her permission. Taking a deep breath, he busied himself with the appetizer in front of him while he spoke. "Well, a few years back, Jake had started fixing cars out of Billy's garage. He took money for it, but he couldn't really keep up with the demand, you know?" He glanced at Leah, and she nodded again. "So his dad helped him apply for a tribal grant...and he got it. So then it was just a matter of finding a space to open an actual garage. Luckily, he was able to convince the tribal council to lease him that old warehouse down the street from the Rec Center."

"How's that fit in with you?" Leah asked tentatively.

Smiling, he took another drink of wine, and Leah hid her smirk behind her hand at the agonized facial expression he made. "He asked me and Paul to help him run it, Paul mainly because he has Rachel to take care of now. He also offered us both a small share in the business. Quil works there too, but he wanted to stay out of the business side of it." Embry followed up his explanation by swigging a quick drink of water. "Jake's reputation around the county helped out a lot in the beginning, and the garage took off pretty fast...faster than any of us were really expecting."

"So he wants to open another one," Leah concluded, running her thumb against the side of her wine glass.

Embry nodded. "We all work on the cars. We all get our hands dirty, but I do a lot of the books. The accounting and stuff. Jake never was one for the math side of things, so it worked out pretty well. Anyway, one of our customers is a lawyer in Port Angeles. He was in one day when we were working on his car, and he was chatting with me in the office...telling me about his dad's company, which is based out of Chicago..." He hesitated, looking to Leah and watching her knowing expression as the story started coming together. "The guy likes to invest in small businesses on the side. Ones that show a lot of promise when it comes to profit and return, and Jake's been talking about expanding for a while now. So in reality, he pretty much jumped at the opportunity when I told him about it."

Leah felt an odd feeling inside her as he told his story. A strange sense of pride for the person sitting in front of her, for the boys – the  _men_  – she had once considered family. To hear the way their lives had turned out.

It surprised her to feel the warmth tingling in her veins. To realize how no matter what she told herself, a tiny part of her still cared about them.

Even though she'd spent so much time convincing herself she no longer did.

"And that's why you're here," she whispered, reaching for her wine glass.

Embry nodded, his lips curling into a small smile. "That's why I'm here."

"Because Jacob wants you to run the second garage."

"Well, it won't be  _all_  mine," Embry interjected, his brow furrowing, "but Jake is making me a partner in it. He needs someone to manage it since he'll have to stay at the one in La Push, So yeah...instead of the twenty percent I get now from the business, that number will go up. He'll get the rest, and this company will get their share. We're just hoping the cut they ask for isn't obscene or Jake'll never go for it, and then the whole idea will go to hell pretty quick."

"So why didn't he come with you?" Leah asked, barely noticing as the waiter came and placed their appetizers in front of them. "Why send you by yourself?"

Embry shrugged. "Guess he trusts me enough to handle it on my own." Hesitating again, he picked up his fork before continuing. "Well, that and I don't think Bella would let him leave for two whole weeks."

"Bella?" Leah blurted out, leaning forward in her seat, unable to hide the blatant surprise on her face. "You mean...she finally pulled her head out of her ass and decided to go for someone warm and living?"

"Yeah," Embry replied knowingly, unfazed by Leah's choice of words before picking up his knife and cutting into the small piece of meat in front of him. "They got married about two years ago. They're gonna have a baby here in a few months."

"Jesus," Leah breathed, the news sending an inexplicable shiver through her veins. "That's...well, great for him."

"It is," Embry agreed, chewing thoughtfully. "That's why this whole investment thing is kind of bad timing. Guy has enough on his mind with a baby on the way, and now he's worrying about opening a second shop." Swallowing, he shrugged. "So if anything, besides the obvious, I'm just happy to take something off his plate for him."

"Huh." Exhaling swiftly, Leah leaned back in her seat, unsure of what to say as her appetizer plate went untouched. She wasn't sure what else she could say, so she released the first words that formed on her tongue.

Words that deep down, she was pretty sure she meant.

"That's fantastic, Embry...really." She glanced up, finding him already watching her with a soft expression on his face. "That's great for you."

Smiling sheepishly, he nodded. "I'm pretty excited about it, yeah. Hopefully this guy here likes what I have to say and the deal goes through."

"It will."

Embry hesitated, fork hovering in the air as he watched her, almost like he was trying to figure out where the sudden burst of faith had come from. Leah's fingers curled tighter around her thigh beneath the table. "What makes you say that?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Because I work in public relations. I get paid to spout bullshit all day, and that?" Raising an eyebrow, she nodded toward him before reaching for her wine glass. "The way you talk about the business, the passion you have for it...it's written all over your face. It's not about Jake. It's not about helping him out. It's a dream  _you_  have."

Taking a drink, she tried to ignore the way his smile fell slowly from his lips, eyes clouding as she spoke. Like something had shifted.

Like he was realizing it was the first time she'd truly  _talked_  to him all night.

Shifting in her seat, Leah tasted the wine on her tongue before swallowing. "They'll see that, Embry...and they'll make the investment," she insisted, holding those eyes with hers. "If they know what's good for them, they'll give you their money."

Several moments passed before Embry cleared his throat, eyes faltering for a moment as he set his fork on his plate. Leah noticed the waiter once again approaching their table. "I hope you're right..."

"I am," she reaffirmed, offering him a confident yet small smile. "You'll see."

Embry didn't look away until the waiter reached their table, and Leah didn't really hear his dinner order as he spoke it to the other man. All she could focus on were the words she'd just said to him. Wondering where they had come from, only she couldn't figure it out. All she knew was somehow it wasn't about the past. It wasn't about the life she left behind.

It was about the man sitting in front of her, and it was about  _his_  future. Something that wasn't so painful to talk about.

Something that had nothing to do with her, which was a lot easier to swallow.

When the table in front of her finally came back into focus, Leah realized the waiter was watching her expectantly, so she offered him an apologetic smile and reached for her menu, ordering the first dish her eyes landed on.

"Anything else for you, miss?"

Leah snuck a glance out of the corner of eye to see Embry still watching her, his face relaxed and expressionless.

"Yeah," she spoke up. "Get this one a beer when you get a chance."

She pretended not to see the smile spread across his lips when the waiter finally walked away.

* * *

It wasn't until Embry pointed it out, Leah's fork poised ravenously above the plate of sweet banana cake, did she realize what had happened.

"You made it to dessert..."

Frowning, she peered up at the person across the table. "What?"

"You made it to dessert," Embry repeated, a knowing smirk threatening to overtake his expression. "That was the deal. If you made it to dessert and you weren't having a good time, I'd leave you alone."

Smiling, Leah shook her head. It was weird really. How often in the past hour she'd found herself smiling. Although she had no explanation, it grew increasingly easier to smile the longer she sat there.

Embry had talked more about the garage and the company who was interested in investing. Leah recognized the name and the business behind it – they were clients at a competing firm. In turn, she'd talked a little about her job and a little less about college.

The conversation topics had stopped there. Embry did his best to avoid words and references that hit too close to the past, and Leah did her best not to think about it at all. To forget about the questions probably sitting on the tip of his tongue.

Questions he never once asked, and answers he never went searching for.

She was grateful for it.

"You bought me a hundred-dollar bottle of wine and banana cake," she murmured, finally giving up and shoving a bite of the sweet dessert into her mouth. "What woman in her right mind  _wouldn't_  be having a good time?"

"Well, I took a chance," he replied, opening the black folder containing the credit card slip. Signing it quickly, he closed it before pushing it to the edge of the table. "A lucky one, since we both know women aren't exactly my specialty..."

Leah snorted, the words coming directly from the shy, awkward teenage boy she remembered. "Still? I find that kind of hard to believe."

Shrugging, Embry flashed her a shy half-smile, turning his hands up in defeat when Leah shook her head. "You really haven't changed all that much," she laughed quietly, taking another bite of cake. Watching as the smile lessened on his lips by a fraction.

Sighing, Embry leaned back, offering her a small smile of his own. Like he knew something she didn't.

"Neither have you."

Face falling, the piece of cake in her mouth was suddenly difficult to swallow. He had no idea really, yet it wasn't until she looked back to him, meeting his gaze, that she heard the sincerity in his words. That his eyes told a similar story, looking at her like she  _wasn't_  damaged. Like she wasn't an empty shell of the person she used to be.

Like she wasn't something to be hunted, in desperate need of rescue from a barstool.

It was the same way he'd  _always_  looked at her.

But she pushed it away, ignoring the warmth it sent pulsing through her veins. A foreign sensation buried by the truth of the matter.

Warmth was something she no longer welcomed. Not like this.

"You keep telling yourself that," she murmured, swiping the last bite of cake from her plate and popping it in her mouth. Pretending like she didn't notice the smile fall from his.

A few minutes later, they were standing outside the restaurant, waiting for the taxi the valet had called for Leah. Arms crossed in front of her chest, she stood rigidly next to Embry. Now that it was over, she was unsure of what to say, but she  _hadn't_  forgotten what she was supposed to do next.

She was supposed to leave. That was when she was supposed to walk away, just as she had before.

She could feel him turn next to her. Hear him take a deep breath, his exhale long and hesitant.

"I'm glad we did this," he finally said, the words almost getting lost in the night and the unusual silence of the road in front of them.

Swallowing thickly, she nodded, trying to find the words. "Me too," she replied, even though she wasn't entirely sure the words were true. Suddenly feeling a mixture of unease and relief, she knew it would probably be the last time she saw him. Still, she knew that was the way it had to be because she had no room in her life for him.

Not anymore.

But the way he was looking at her –  _again_  – made it all too clear that was exactly what he wanted. A place... _somewhere_ , somehow, and that wasn't something she was willing to give.

"Six years is a long time, Lee..."

Taking a deep breath, she could feel it churning inside her. The same reaction she felt when things started getting a little too personal. When the ones who didn't understand started coming a little too close. She could feel herself closing off, all the smiles and laughs she allowed threatening to fade into the background.

Yet she fought the overwhelming urge to walk away. She  _couldn't_. Her legs were too heavy, feet rooted to the ground.

_He wasn't one of them._

"That was the point, Embry," she whispered, eyes searching. Breath leaving her in a silent, grateful rush the moment she saw the taxi round the corner at the end of the street. She didn't want to talk about it anymore. She didn't want him to ruin it.

But he did, the moment he stepped in front of her, his shoes appearing in her vision. It was all she could see, but she felt everything else. His heat reaching out, surrounding her.

Keeping her from leaving.

It was too much, bringing back a flood of memories she'd tried all night to push down. Ones he exacerbated by simply being too close. Closing her eyes, she swallowed thickly. Holding it back, steeling herself despite the fact each one clawed at her insides. Whispering at her to turn around. To find another way out.

Yet he held her in place, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her without waiting for permission. Body tensing inherently, she held her breath, suddenly consumed by that same heat. One she recognized but hadn't felt in so long.

One that reached inside and squeezed a buried piece of her so tight Leah found herself unable to breathe.

"Don't let it be another six years," he whispered, breath warm on the top of her head. Ignoring the fact her arms dug into his chest, refusing to let go of herself. Refusing to return his embrace.

Shivering, she could feel it starting. That need for release. That buzzing beneath her skin. Her own heat building. A need to purge the anxiety growing within her.

She was losing her hold on control, and she needed to go. Shaky hands robotically uncurled from her forearms, pressing against his chest instead. Slowly pushing him away.

_Again..._

He released her without a fight. He didn't pull her back, and Leah peered up at him as the heat around her receded. As the boiling inside her continued to grow, he looked down, a small, unassuming smile playing on his lips. But he didn't speak. Even as she glanced behind him, watching the taxi as it came to a stop at the curb, she could feel him watching her. Waiting for her to say  _something_.

"Thank you for dinner." She finally forced the words from her mouth, affording him the briefest of glances, ignoring the expectation in his eyes. A question she could answer if she really wanted to. Instead, she clenched her trembling hands into fists, stepping around him and feeling the heaviness in her stomach dissolve little by little with each step she took toward the taxi.

"Leah..."

Something about his voice made her hesitate just before getting in the vehicle, her hand curling tightly around the top of the door. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, slowly glancing over her shoulder before opening them.

Embry's brow was pulled down with concern, with an anxiety of his own. One she couldn't place, not until he finally spoke.

"Will you keep in touch?"

Stomach wrenching, her lips parted, unable to form the words on her tongue. Two words were all she needed. Just two fucking words and she could walk away and he would go home and never come back.

_I can't..._

It was all she needed to say.

But standing there, withering under those intense, contemplative eyes that spoke more words than he ever could, she closed her own because her words wouldn't form. Still, she eventually let her lips move and regretted it the moment she did.

"Thank you for dinner," she repeated, sucking in a deep breath as she opened her eyes, fingers clinging even harder to the taxi door. Threatening to dent the metal if she put forth any more pressure. "I'll pay you back...for dinner. It was expensive..."

Embry's face relaxed by a fraction, and he let the small smile return to his own. "Don't worry about it," he insisted, his hands inherently finding the pockets of his jeans.

"No." She shook her head wildly. "I'll pay you back."

Forehead creasing in resignation, Embry sighed. "Just keep in touch, okay?"

The words were gone again, but the shaking turned into a nod. Over and over, her head bobbed without waiting for her permission.

"Okay..."

When he smiled, she could feel her muscles rippling beneath the surface of her skin. Blood surging through her veins, she tensed, holding her breath. She wasn't sure how she made it into the backseat of the taxi, but when her eyes opened again, she was there. The door was closed and it was pulling away from the curb.

What she said...that wasn't what she wanted. Hands clenching into fists, she swore silently to herself the moment she regained a semblance of control over her anxious frame. The moment she was sure she wasn't going to phase in the backseat of a Chicago taxi.

What he wanted wasn't something she was willing to give, no matter what she said. No matter how many laughs. No matter how many smiles.

No matter how much she owed him.

He was too close, and if having dinner with him had proved one thing, there was no way in hell she could ever be herself around him...not without going back.

But she couldn't figure out what to do. Not then. Not when her hands were shaking so bad she could barely hold on to the clutch in her hands.

She gripped it tighter.

As the taxi drove toward Bucktown, fingers accidentally closed over the silhouette of her forgotten cell phone.

Chest tightening as she unclasped it, Leah reached in and grabbed the phone. Holding her breath, trying to calm the inexplicable churning in her stomach as she hit the button and allowed the text message she'd received earlier to light up the device.

_Well, you know where to find me..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, how about that. Leah had a good time...but then...
> 
> Things are going to start to pick up and get a little more intense after this chapter. More questions to be answered as well. These first three really set the stage. Action and angst are on deck. ;)
> 
> P.S. Little known fact - I've actually been to Blackbird restaurant in Chicago. If you ever get there and consider yourself a "foodie" (which I do NOT, I just happened to be dating a professional chef at the time), I'd highly recommend it. :)
> 
> Anyway, thoughts on this chapter?


	4. Crash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Disclaimer: This chapter contains MILD allusions to drug use. I'm notifying you all as a courtesy. I'm not condoning or advocating it, simply using it as a device. However, if you don't approve, just skip over the first section of this chapter. ;)

_**Suggested Listening: "Into The Past" by Nero, "Roads" by Portishead, "You Will Become" by Glen Hansard, "Thankless Marriage" by Spokane** _

Everything was on fire.

She could see him move in the darkness, body rising, her own rocking back. Everything in slow motion. The familiar room completely dark except for the red light of a sign seeping through the window. Matching the flames. Spreading agonizingly slow across his features. She blinked, the movement much too slow. Much too drawn out.

Fingernails scraped across the flesh of her back, and her eyes opened wide. Knees pressed hard into a mattress that wasn't hers. Lips parting, her voice taking its time to catch up to the rest of her.

A rough cry escaped Leah's mouth, head tipping back as cool arms jerked her body toward a hard chest. Her flesh glistened, covered with a thin sheen of sweat. Mixing with his, the scent simmered through her body.

The fire was everywhere by then. Inside her, around her, on his tongue as he drug it roughly up the space between her breasts. Tasting her. She trembled viscerally, arching her body toward him, when he didn't leave a single drop behind.

He hummed against her skin, lips parting as warm pants of air puffed across her skin.

"How's it feel?"

The high. He was talking about the high. She didn't want to think now. It's why she had done it. Why she'd simply smiled when he handed her the little white pill. Swallowing it without a second thought.

Sometimes, what she was doing – hips flexing as Jason pushed himself inside her – wasn't enough. Sometimes, it wasn't enough to feel anything. To forget...

Sometimes, she needed a little help.

And at that moment, she could feel  _everything_. The heat racing through her veins was euphoric. His movements ethereal. Her head swimming with a vicious want. The scent of passion, arousal, and a carnal desire tangible in the warm air.

 _This_  was what she wanted.

What she  _needed_...

Leah writhed in the man's lap, wrapping her long, copper legs around his midsection, crying out as he pushed into her again. Rocking forward, she took his bottom lip between her teeth, tugging until he moaned.

Releasing it, she drug her mouth down the skin just next to his lips.

"Shut  _up_ ," she growled, the sound coming in a voice she didn't recognize. Lower. Filled with a need she wasn't capable of on her own. "Just fuck me...that's all I want to feel..."

Closing her eyes, she let herself surrender to the heat. To the feel of his rough, thick fingers digging into her back. To the movement of her body leaning back, one hand curling tightly around crumpled sheets. Bracing herself. To the way the drug coursing through her veins heightened everything, even though the blood in her body made it impossible for it to last more than a handful of minutes.

It didn't matter. For now, she held onto it. Making every movement unreal. Allowing her lips to curl into a delirious smile as he pushed. As he pulled.

As she fell, his hands digging hard into her hips. Hard enough to hurt her.

But he never did.

None of them did, and that was how she liked it.

_This is who I am..._

Something she could walk away from whenever she wanted...

.

_Trying to pull her fingers through her rain-soaked hair, Leah realized it was useless a moment before she heard the footsteps behind her. The rest of the house was silent, and even from where she stood she could hear the soft pattering of rain on the roof two stories above._

_But his footsteps were louder._

" _You didn't need to come in here with me," she mumbled, her body swaying forward. Her mind a hazy mess, eyes stinging and swollen. Swaying forward, her fingers caught the edge of the sink, curling around it for dear life. She closed her eyes when she heard him breathe in. When he didn't move._

" _I just wanted to make sure you were okay," Embry's whisper bled with worry, and it stole the breath from her lungs. She didn't deserve his concern._

_She didn't want it..._

" _I'm fine," she lied, which was pointless. She was certain he could hear her heart pounding. That there was some way he could feel the tight, consuming ache in her chest, just like he'd be able to if they were phased. That he would know it wasn't the truth. "You should go," she pressed on, the words choked as they worked from her throat. "My mom's gonna be home soon. I'm gonna have to...explain to her...and Seth too. "_

_The ache throbbed at the simple mention of her brother's name, and it killed her. It killed her because it would touch him too. She wasn't sure how, but he would pay for it...what she'd done. Just like she was._

_At the same time, it killed her because she couldn't think of him without thinking of Sam. Without thinking of Emily. What he was a part of..._

_It all tied together._

_It all came back to that._

" _Sam's gonna come looking for you, Leah...you know he is." Embry's voice was closer now, like he'd finally stepped into the kitchen. Far away, but still close._

_Squeezing her eyes shut, she shook her head wildly. "Well, there's nothing you can do to stop it then..."_

" _No," he murmured, "but I can be here. If he comes..."_

" _And do what?" she cried out, eyes snapping open, her legs suddenly turning her around to face him. He was standing just inside the kitchen door, watching through narrow, insistent eyes. His lips pursed with determination._

_By the look on his face, it was almost like he would do anything she asked of him. All she had to do was speak the words._

" _What the hell do you think you're gonna do, Embry?" she pushed, the ache lowering. Settling in her stomach, fanning through her veins as she once again started to tremble. "He's your Alpha...there's nothing you_ can _do."_

" _I know, but..." He was still looking at her, but his eyes shifted. Bouncing back and forth like they were searching, trying to come up with a better reason. Trying to come up with some kind of argument against hers._

_Leah sighed, arms heavy, her entire body lethargic. On the verge of shutting down completely, she couldn't take much more._

" _You need to go," she breathed, doing her best to steel herself. To hide the war inside her. "I'm not...worth the trouble."_

_Her jaw tight, she forced her feet to move, approaching Embry. Ignoring how he watched her, lips parted helplessly, unspoken words lingering._

_Her arm brushed his fingers when she went to pass him._

" _Leah..."_

_She couldn't move, her wrist suddenly encased by sturdy fingers. He was standing next to her, and her eyes traveled down to see where his hand curled around her arm. Landing there, trying to comprehend it before they moved up his frame, eventually finding his insistent eyes looking down at her._

_Wanting to pull away, she could if she tried...but she didn't. She couldn't fight; there was none left in her. When he turned, she didn't step back. She didn't move away. He moved too fast, and suddenly her wrist was freed but his hands were somewhere else. On her cheeks. Framing her face. Forcing her to look at him. Forcing her to listen._

_Brows pulling low over his eyes, he took a deep breath through his nose, holding her there._

_She was frozen, his eyes holding hers just as they had in his truck. Just as they had the night she first phased. She didn't understand...why he was doing it. Why he seemed to want to fight for her._

_But staring into those sincere ebony eyes – watching as they drifted below hers, settling for a brief moment on her mouth – for a split second she thought maybe he was right. As his lips parted slightly, unspoken words lingering in his mouth, she thought maybe she could let him. Maybe he could help her. He had before..._

_Maybe he could make it better._

_It would be so easy to let it happen._

_So easy to lose herself in it. In that moment with him._

_So easy..._

_She wasn't sure who moved first, if it had been him or her, but she suddenly could feel his breath on her mouth. She could feel his lips brush hers. Hesitantly...gently...unsure. His heat consuming her, even though it matched her own._

_When she leaned forward just slightly...pushing up against her toes, taking his bottom lip between hers...the pain withdrew. The emptiness faded. She forgot about everything._

_And it felt so fucking good._

_So good..._

_A feeling she could get used to..._

_But it only took a second for runaway thoughts to invade, for the red to recede. For it to be replaced with something else the moment her hands curled possessively around his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. The action filled with desperation...with_ need _. For the rest of the day's events to obliterate the irrational haze that overcame her. Sam's words. Emily's face. Crimson on her hands. The pounding emptiness in her chest._

_What a similar need had cost her._

_Embry was suddenly too close._

_Her senses returned faster than she lost them, because if she didn't pull away...if she didn't leave...she would only hurt him._

_He would only hurt her too._

_So she did, a soft cry escaping her lips as soon as they separated from his. Her fingers curled into his wet shirt as she pushed him away, her gaze falling toward the floor. Refusing to see what he looked like in that moment. Trying to hide the moisture frantically gathering in the corners of her eyes._

" _Fuck, Embry, I can't..." she choked out, speaking to the floor beneath her, still hanging onto him. "I can't..._ you _can't. Dammit..."_

" _Leah..." She could feel his hands on hers, trying to get her to let go._

_She couldn't do that either..._

_But she did. She had to._

_So one by one, her fingers unfurled, letting him go. Letting it all go._

" _If you want to help me," she was finally able to whisper, "you have to leave...please."_

_She could feel him retreat; hesitantly, but the step he took shot through her in the form of a vicious shudder as it ripped up her spine. Tearing her eyes from the floor, her hands curled into fists at her sides, finding his gaze just in time to see him nod._

_Just in time to see the sad, conflicted clouds in his eyes. Turning them black._

_His gaze fell. He took a step back._

" _I know...I'm sorry too." Another step. "If you...need me, you know where I'll be."_

_She nodded forlornly, eyes suddenly unable to find his. She'd almost done it. She'd almost made things worse, but she stopped it just in time. She'd pushed him away before it was too late. Before she'd done something else she would not have been able to undo._

_She walked away._

_Even if a part deep inside silently begged him to pull her back. To ask him to stay. To plead with him to help her. To help her forget. To fix this._

_To fix_ her _._

 _But she didn't, because she knew it wouldn't work...because he was one of them, and there was nothing he_ could _do._

_What was done was done. With Sam, with Emily, with him...and she would have to live with knowing. Knowing she could never let her guard down when one moment – one belonging to a world where she had no control – could take it all way._

_His footsteps echoed through the front entryway, the door opening and closing. It was only when she heard the sound of it latch, ricocheting through her like a gunshot, that she knew she was the only one who could fix it...just like Sam had told her to._

_She should have left._

_She still could..._

.

Embry lay awake, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling of his hotel room.

The sun was just starting to rise on the city outside, the muted glow of daylight filtering through the curtains of the terrace doors. He'd opened them earlier, suddenly needing the noise. Needing anything to drown out the thoughts he couldn't seem to shut off.

It hadn't really worked.

He didn't anticipate it, what seeing Leah for longer than a handful of moments would do. What it would bring back. What he would see once he finally had the chance.

Even when she smiled, it was all there on display.

Every single day she'd been away. Every single memory she was trying to hide.

And he could feel it all. How long it had been. How noticeable her absence was now that he was there. Now that he had seen her. How much he missed that confidence. That fire that left a gaping hole in the lives they led...the life he led...without her.

Even though the sparks were harder to see than they were then. Obscured by the demons she allowed to rest there instead.

It felt too familiar, like he'd seen it before...before she left home. The moment in her kitchen, before she'd asked him to leave too. Before he listened, the look in her eyes permanently burned into his memory. A look he hated.

Only now it was worse, and he shouldn't have walked away.

He should have told her she was worth it.

Because he couldn't forget, the person she was trying so hard to. The woman she had been. Where she belonged. How much she was needed.

_What she had left behind..._

Head falling to the side, Embry released a silent breath, eyes landing on the nightstand.

On his cell phone, sitting just within reach.

.

Leah's forehead pressed hard into her hands, elbows digging into her knees, cradling her head between her fingers.

With an exhausted sigh, she managed to look up after a few long moments. Glancing forlornly around the small, silent bathroom she'd locked herself in, her toes curled into the woven mat beneath her feet.

Her body was satiated. It ached, but not like it should have. It ached in places she didn't recognize...places she didn't know she had inside her. She was used to this happening when everything was over. She was used to the high receding, leaving next to nothing in its wake.

But there she was, hiding in a man's bathroom, because once the drugs faded – once her body had come from its natural high, the one she constantly chased – it left so much more behind than it normally did. When Jason rolled over, his breathing even after only a few moments, Leah laid on her back, naked and trembling, her chest heaving with suppressed breaths.

Remembering.

Coming down.

Crashing. Harder than she ever had before.

And she knew why.

She'd let her guard down. For a split second, sitting across that table from Embry, she'd let him in. Just like she had done years earlier. Except this time, she hadn't asked him to leave. She walked away, but not like she was supposed to. Instead, she'd left him with an open invitation to somehow work his way back into her life.

Just as she had that night in her kitchen back home.

He'd taken it. Six years later, he showed up.

And Leah was losing it. She was remembering  _everything_ because of it, and it was eating her alive all over again.

And it was so fucking easy. He made it  _too easy_.

To remember  _everything_.

To make her miss something she left behind, even if she didn't know what that something was.

It was exactly why she couldn't let him stay...because she didn't need it, whatever it was. She didn't  _want_  it, to feel the way she was feeling, even if the tight ache in her chest told her something different.

Even if Embry – with his words and his smiles and those  _exactly the same_  eyes that seemed to stare straight through her – had wanted her to feel differently too. Even if he'd asked her to without really saying a word.

The man, sleeping soundly on the other side of the bathroom door...what they had done...

That was who she was, and Embry couldn't look at her like that anymore. She would prove it to him.

She would prove it to  _herself_.

Not a muscle in her body moved when her eyes fell on her phone, resting on the edge of the sink a few feet away. It had vibrated a while ago, the buzzing sending an anxious shiver through her body. Bringing one fist to her lips, she eyed it warily for several moments. At first, she wondered who it could be at that hour on a Sunday morning, even though she already had a feeling.

Despite the fact she already knew.

Lips pressed nervously together, her arm lifted from her thigh, finally reaching out. Curling around the phone and pulling it back to her.

It was her own fault...

She barely had to look at the screen to see the name, lit up like a warning sign. Reminding her how badly she screwed up the night before.

Drawing in a ragged breath, she pushed the button, displaying the message across the phone's screen.

_Thanks for last night. It really was great to see you._

The words were innocent. Amiable, but a reassurance nonetheless.

Affirming the fact she needed to do something about it.

That she needed to do better job. Better than she'd done the night before.

Better than she'd done six years ago.

Pulling her lip between her teeth, the phone poised between both hands, shaky fingers moved fluidly over the keypad...

_Yeah you too. Wednesday...do you have plans?_

Her thumb hesitated just before she hit send, eyes closing, heart pounding in her ears because in reality, there would be no going back from it.

Even though she held her breath, she lost it the moment she did.

Knowing history would be buried. Knowing the past would finally be pushed where it belonged.

The phone buzzed again in her hand.

_Not that I know of..._

Knowing if she did things her way this time, it would finally be over.

_You do now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens... *cue ominous music...or something* ;)
> 
> So what do you think Leah is up to, hmm? How about what happened the night before she left La Push?
> 
> Sorry this chapter is so short (by my standards, at least). The next one should be big and meaty and will hopefully make up for it. :)
> 
> Can't wait to hear your thoughts!


	5. Miss

_**Suggested Listening: "A Bad Dream" by Keane, "I Guess I Miss(ed) You" by The Daylights, "Walk Away" by Sarah Fimm, "Winter" by Daughter** _

.

_He had no idea what he was doing._

_Not one fucking clue._

_Yet standing in his Alpha's kitchen – hair dripping, water creating small puddles beneath his feet – it didn't matter. The fight became clear when Embry took one look at Sam's tired eyes...his too-calm face. He could feel the anger simmering just beneath his skin, wondering why he looked so collected. Wondering why the hell he was simply standing there._

" _Did you need something, Embry?"_

_Sam's deep, gravelly voice scratched viciously at Embry's already frayed nerves. His tone was agitated and defeated all in a single breath. Lips parting slightly, Embry had to swallow. He had to take a deep breath to push the knot back the rest of the way. To tame the red gathering in the corner of his eyes._

_He closed them..._

_Embry wasn't sure why, but before he could say it – the words he'd heard over the phone, pushed out despite the fact Seth Clearwater had tried to hide it, swallowing back silent, frustrated tears – he had to close his eyes._

_To buy himself a moment._

_To let the red wash away beneath an ocean of darkness._

" _She...left."_

_The resigned sigh from across the room pricked at a place deep inside Embry. Something caused by the weight behind it. Proof of something Sam already knew...of a truth given to him long before Embry had decided to walk to his house, pushing through the rainy dawn with a determination that scared that shit out of him. Fueled by a desire to know what Sam planned to do about it..._

_How he planned to find Leah._

_How he planned to bring her home._

_Embry's jaw tightened inherently, remembering two days earlier. Remembering how she had been there. In front of him. How he'd stared into her eyes and watched as the life in them...the fire he'd always been drawn to...dwindled more and more as each moment passed. Threatening to disappear completely._

_Remembering how he tried to pull her back, even though he had no idea what he was doing. What he would start inside him, the taste of her lips still fresh on his, inhabiting every corner of his mind._

_But she had slipped away the moment he let go, and no one had done anything to prevent it. To stop it._

_Himself included._

_Embry opened his eyes just in time to see Sam drop his own toward the floor. Avoiding the piercing accusation Embry couldn't seem to keep from his. He took a step away from him, toward the kitchen door. Almost like he was being pulled away from the spot where his feet rested._

" _I know."_

_The two barely-audible words were all it took for the tight knot gathering in the base of Embry's stomach to unravel, his limbs trembling as he brought both hands up, pushing thick fingers roughly through hair. He felt helpless, the intensity of it mixing dangerously with the frustration he felt toward the man standing across the kitchen. Embry's frame shook and he gritted his teeth, pulling in a deep breath through his nostrils. Trying like hell to calm down, despite the fact he could justify every single ounce of it._

_No matter what, he wasn't wrong. To feel that way. To want to fight. To be that angry._

_Leah was gone._

_And Sam was just_ fucking standing there _._

" _Why..." Embry pushed the word through clenched teeth. "Why are you just..._ here _, Sam? I mean...why the hell aren't you looking for her?"_

_This time, Sam turned away from Embry._

_He_ turned away...

_Embry took a step back, tremors rolling violently from his fingertips. At his sides, hands curled into fists as he tried like hell to control the shaking._

_It only got worse._

" _So that's it...you're just gonna let her go?"_

" _If she doesn't want to be here?…Yes." Sam still couldn't look him in the eye, his body leaning against the doorframe, one palm wrapping tightly around the aging wood._

" _So is that what we do now?" Embry choked out, muscles tightening against the inherent heat consuming them. Fighting it off the best he could. "One of us messes up and the rest of the pack just abandons them? Even when you were the one who fucked this up in the first place..."_

_It didn't matter that Sam wasn't looking at him; Embry could still see him visibly wince as the words made their way across the space separating the two men._

_Sam shook his head wildly, casting a glance toward Embry, to the doorframe in front of him and back to the floor._

_Like a caged animal looking for a way out._

" _She made it pretty clear she didn't want to be found," Sam finally spoke, his voice a low, controlled murmur, "and I can't...I can't see her right now, even if I could find her. Not after what..." Sam's words trailed off, his eyes squeezing shut, breath catching in his throat. The recollection of what happened playing out through his expression as it shifted, each memory painstakingly _passing_  behind closed lids._

" _So that's really it..." Embry snapped, the finality of the phrase grating at his better sense. Trying to understand but failing miserably. "Sam..._ you _made it clear._ You _made her believe she wasn't wanted...that we didn't need her._ You _made her believe that._ You _told her to leave and then didn't come after her...to make things right. And now she's gone."_

_Embry wasn't sure what kind of reaction he was hoping to get from Sam, but whatever it was, he wasn't getting it. The Sam Embry knew wasn't there._

_The person standing in front of him was weak. Full of defeat. The love he used to exude when he talked about Leah – when others mentioned her – was gone, right along with the leader Embry had come to respect._

_The man who always stood strong at the head of their pack – a champion of honor, responsibility, and love – was nowhere to be found._

" _I don't know what you want me to do, Embry..."_

_His mouth fell open at Sam's words, breath escaping his lungs in a swift rush. He wanted to tell him to go to hell. He wanted to phase and rip into him in a way he'd never felt before. In a way that was completely unlike him. He wanted to call him on failing the pack. On failing him._

_On failing Leah._

_But he never got the chance._

" _He wants you to go look for her, Sam..."_

_Embry's eyes snapped toward the kitchen doorway, lips parting in shock._

_His body tensing even more when he saw Emily's small frame occupying the space several feet away._

_She was wrapped tightly in a blanket, raven hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, one side of her delicate expression watching the scene in the kitchen._

_The other was obscured, hidden behind a white covering of bandages. Blocking a face Embry recognized but barely knew. One he didn't care about. Not yet, although it was becoming painfully clear in time he would have to._

_At least that's what he thought until her eyes met his, filled with a crippling guilt and resignation of her own._

_Until he realized that in that moment, she was the only ally he had in that kitchen._

_She tried to smile at Embry, but the action was too much. Too difficult. Her eyes closed, features drooping beneath the pain. Lips parting slightly, she took a deep breath, gathering her strength and finding the courage somewhere inside her to say what she needed to._

_Turning her face, she pulled the blanket closer to her body, redirecting her meek smile to Sam._

" _And you should," she said in a sincere, insistent whisper._

_By the time the sun was high in the sky that day, Emily was still at Sam's, sleeping soundly because of the medication the doctor had made her take. Her slumber masking both the pain and a forgiving heart Embry had not anticipated._

_But he was long gone._

_Four paws pushed into the muddy ground, wind intricately weaving its way through coarse fur. Heading north. Paying no mind to the flicker in the corner of his mind. To Sam's silent search as he headed southeast, his thoughts conflicted and his search half-hearted._

_Embry only sped up, his determination fueled when he eventually saw a third path, followed by a fourth. As Seth and Jacob joined the search, the former tipping his snout toward the heavens. Releasing a call. A plea for help. An invitation, accepted when three more purposeful minds joined, instinctively linking with the others._

_The collective strength of a cohesive pack – one with a single mission – tangible and complete._

_Except for one dark spot. One glaring absence._

_One he couldn't shake._

_One with its own strength._

_One that no matter what they did, no matter how fast or how far they ran, would never go away._

.

With a heavy sigh, Embry leaned against the light post, trying to watch the traffic driving by the place he stood. Trying like hell to avert his eyes each time he caught them drifting toward the entrance of the apartment building a sidewalk's distance away.

He was waiting. Breathing. Trying to remind himself that if Leah hadn't wanted to see him again, there was no way in hell she would have agreed to it. To dinner. To the concert they were going to that night. To any of it.

Embry knew that better than anyone.

They had searched more than once, always coming up empty-handed. Eventually, they all stopped looking. Giving up when they realized there was nothing else they could do. When they realized Sue Clearwater was never going to reveal her daughter's eventual whereabouts, always avoiding their stares and questions, reminding them sternly whenever they asked that regardless of how they felt, she was safe and alive. That when Leah was ready to come home – when she was ready to reclaim the life she left behind – she would.

Which made it all worse...the conflicting emotions twisting at Embry's insides. He was nervous. Exhilarated. Confused. Mostly though, he was surprised...how easy it had been. How willing she had been to  _see_  him again, despite it all. Despite how much time had passed and how well she had remained hidden from everyone she left behind.

The truth was he expected more of a fight now that he'd found her, yet he hadn't even needed to ask. She beat him to it as his eyes read her text days earlier, his phone poised between his fingers, body frozen in the pale, early-morning light filtering through the curtains of his hotel room.

_Wednesday...do you have plans?_

He  _definitely_  hadn't expected it to be that easy.

Regardless, he didn't question it because maybe what he'd seen that night at dinner was wrong. Maybe the conversation they shared had been enough.

Maybe this was his chance.

To make things right. To let her know she could quit running. To help her remember that even if she didn't need La Push...even if she didn't need them anymore...the people she left behind still cared about her.

Which was why he was there. Standing outside her apartment, waiting for her to come down.

Even if he had no idea how he was going to do it.

How he was going to convince her.

He was looking at the door again when his cell phone trilled from his pocket. Clearing his throat, almost like he'd been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to, Embry straightened, hand diving into his pocket to retrieve the ringing phone. Pulling it out, he glanced at the caller ID before answering it.

Seth Clearwater.

Embry's breath hitched violently in his chest. Hesitating for a moment, he cast one last cursory glance toward the glass door. Shaking his head slightly, he answered the phone, choosing to turn his back on the building instead.

"Hey, Seth," Embry answered hurriedly, breath finally leaving him. He fought the urge to plug his free ear with his finger to block out the obtrusive noises of the city surrounding him.

" _Hey, man. What's up?"_

The sound of Leah's younger brother's voice pulled viciously at something inside of him. The fact he was standing just outside her apartment, waiting for her. The fact he had seen her...spent time with her.

But even though Seth knew Leah had been in Chicago, Embry let the words die silently on his tongue.

"Not much. Just heading out to grab a bite to eat," he lied effortlessly.

There was an awkward pause on the other end of the line, and Embry's brows pulled low over his eyes as he waited for Seth to say something.

" _So how...how did the meeting go on Monday?"_

Taking a deep breath, Embry found himself once again leaning against the light post, chewing ceaselessly on his lower lip. "It went good..." he ventured, staring at his feet. "Is that why you called?"

Seth's chuckle confirmed what Embry already knew.

" _No...It's not."_

"Alright, man, spit it out...what's going on?"

Embry found himself waiting again. Despite being twenty-one years old, Seth never really grew out of his quiet, awkward teenage demeanor. He was still painfully shy and didn't open up to many of his pack brothers, keeping a steel guard around his thoughts and feelings even when he was phased.

It had gotten worse the longer Leah stayed away.

Seth had taken it the hardest when Leah left. She was really the only person he ever confided in...the only person he talked to about anything, especially after their dad died of a heart attack just after she first phased. Despite Leah trying to pretend like her brother was a youthful inconvenience, she had never failed to step up and defend Seth – who was two years younger than Embry, Jacob and the others – when they picked on him. To pull him aside when the thick, contemplative clouds – caused when the burden of duty and a responsibility he was simply too young to bear – stole the youthful, easygoing smile from his face.

She had been his best friend.

For some reason, in his sister's absence, Seth had eventually turned to Embry. He eventually confided in him.

Embry only had a hunch why...

Because he knew a thing or two about being left behind. Being the bastard son of a man who never took the time to step up and claim the kid he never wanted, Embry knew what it was like to be the one left to pick up the pieces.

But how Seth felt wasn't about him, and Embry never made it that way. He never asked why.

At first, he was the only person Seth would talk to about his sister. How he felt after she took off. What it did to him to hear the news from his mother...not the person who  _should_  have told him. How he had to watch Emily slowly step up, drifting into a role within the pack once occupied by his sister. How much he missed her and, on his worst days, how passionately he hated her at the same time.

Not for what she did to Emily...

Because she had left him too.

Embry understood, but he never talked badly about Leah. He never condemned her despite the venomous words that would sometimes fall from Seth's lips without restraint.

Seth's words didn't matter though. He wasn't fooling anyone...especially not Embry, who could see it in his eyes. Beneath the anger and hidden amid the frustration. He could see the way Seth's face crumpled every time he spoke a harsh word.

Seth didn't blame her leaving, but he simply wanted her to come home.

Embry knew that feeling, too...

Seth's heavy breath was sharp in Embry's ear, jerking him from his thoughts and back to the present.

" _I did it, man..."_

Blinking, Embry straightened instinctively, immediately throwing his full attention toward the conversation taking place between him and his pack brother a thousand miles away. "Did  _what_ , Seth?"

More silence. Embry could still hear Seth's anxiety-ridden exhales on the other end of the line, gathering the courage to speak the words he wanted to say.

"Seth..."

" _Look, Em, I'm sorry to bother you on your trip and all...I know you're busy, but I didn't know who else to call. I don't have anyone else to tell really since I already told Mom, so..."_

A smile tugged at the corner of Embry's mouth when Seth let his words drift off, pausing for response. "You mean you couldn't even get Quil to listen to you?"

" _Yeah, right...we both know he's got the attention span of a golden retriever."_

Embry chuckled, peering quickly over his shoulder. "Good point. Alright, so...spill it. What did you do?"

This time, Seth sucked in a lungful of air before he let the words fall out in a rush.

" _I asked Grace to marry me..."_

Seth's declaration knocked the breath from Embry's chest, and he slumped against the light pole in shock.

_Grace..._

Seth's imprint.

Embry should have seen it coming. He should have anticipated what Seth was going to say. Better yet, the tiny shred of excitement Embry felt for him should have been bigger, considering Seth had already told him he was going to do it. He had stood in Embry's living room only a couple weeks earlier, sputtering and stammering until he finally pulled the modest ring out of his pocket and begged him for any advice he had to give.

In that moment though, there were too many other considerations...where Embry was, where he was standing.

Who he was waiting for.

And that stronger, more overwhelming truth nagged at him. It scratched at his insides, reminding him he  _shouldn't_  have been the person Seth called next.

Embry let his head fall back against the light post, pressing the phone harder to his ear. He let a genuine but entirely too small smile spread across his lips.

"So did she say yes?"

" _I barely got the words out of my mouth before she was yelling and crying..."_

Letting his eyes fall back to the pavement, Embry took a breath. "That's great, man...I told you she would. I'm happy for you."

" _Yeah, I'm not sure why I was so nervous. I don't know what we're doing, but Grace kinda wants to have the wedding soon...before the summer is over and everything gets crazy. Before the new garage opens, before Bella has the baby. That's all I know, but..."_

Embry allowed Seth's words to shift into a silence between the two, at the same time letting his gaze tip toward the sky. Scanning over the facade of the apartment building he was standing in front of. He took another necessary breath before he pushed his own question past the tightening in his throat.

"Have you told Leah yet?"

Seth's sigh was audible and resigned.

" _No...not yet."_

Embry swallowed. "You need to call her, man. She's missed a lot...but you're getting married. Maybe this will be the one thing she won't want to miss."

" _Yeah...maybe."_

In that moment, Embry's phone vibrated in his hand. Stomach twisting anxiously, he pulled it away from his ear long enough to peer at the name on the screen.

"Seth, I got another call coming in. Can I talk to you later?"

" _Yeah, dude. Just wanted to tell you the news. Have fun, and um...enjoy Chicago."_

"Thanks, man, I will," Embry smiled before lowering the phone and pushing the end call button. Moving his fingers over the keys, he reminded himself to keep breathing. Pushing Seth's news to the back of his mind for that moment, reading the text as it popped up on the small, illuminated screen.

_Be down in a few..._

.

Leah's hands shook as she turned the key in her lock, unnecessarily checking it twice to make sure it was actually locked before releasing her grip on the door handle.

With a deep breath, she turned, making her way across the hallway to the elevator in her building. The phone in her hands felt like a lead weight as she leaned against the back wall, watching as the doors closed in front of her.

A dinging noise registered somewhere in the distance as the elevator lowered, her eyes finally doing the same, falling on the phone. His text message from earlier still there.

_Out front. See you in a minute._

Leah's stomach wrenched violently, her nerves on fire. If she could have slowed down time – if she could have avoided Wednesday coming altogether – she would have. Work had proved a miserable distraction, and it seemed like every ten minutes she was checking her phone. Wishing for some kind of message to come through, a small part of her hoping it wouldn't have to come to this. That maybe Embry would come to his senses on his own and realize what she desperately hoped he would.

That he needed to leave her alone. That he needed to go home.

But he hadn't, and she hadn't heard from him until that morning. A short phone call asking where she lived and what time he was supposed to be there.

Leah closed her eyes, the words on her phone burned behind her eyelids, swallowing back the reality of it. He wasn't going home, at least not right away, and there was nothing she could do to change that. Yet she knew she could have simply asked him to leave her be and he probably would have listened.

It wouldn't be enough. She'd asked him before, but there he was. Downstairs. Waiting for her.

Refusing to go.

Still.

Leah's eyes jerked up the moment the doors opened and her feet moved forward, walking into the building's small entryway. Taking a deep breath, she held it, pushing through the glass doors leading to the street.

He was standing near the curb, one hand shoved lazily in his jeans pocket, his attention on the phone resting in the other. Wearing a simple black t-shirt that clung to his arms and midsection, his clothing highlighted a frame that had continued to fill out over the years. Leah paused for a moment, letting her eyes take him in. The way lean, defined muscles moved when he shifted his arms, the bob of his Adam's apple when he swallowed, just below that strong, pronounced jaw.

He was unaware of her, completely lost in what he was doing.

She let her eyes linger on the contours and lines of his body, leaning lazily against a light post.

_Knowing if things went her way..._

The knot in her stomach flared, and for a moment – just a moment – she considered turning around. Changing her mind. Leaving him out of this life she desperately didn't want him to be a part of.

Even if it was the only way to drive him away.

He chose the same moment to look up, his gaze finding hers. The hand holding the phone dropped to his side, slipping it into his pocket as a small smile spread across his lips.

"Hey," he murmured, the light from the street lamp above him bathing his face in almost ethereal glow.

Swallowing thickly, Leah tried pushing down the tangible unease within, swearing silently at her inability to get a handle on it. This wasn't part of the process. This wasn't something she had to work through...ever.

But she smiled anyway.

"Hey," she repeated, taking a step toward him.

It was his turn to let his eyes sweep over her frame. She'd opted for something more casual for the concert she was taking him to – black shorts that clung to her curves and highlighted long, slender legs. A loose-fitting cream-colored tank top that accentuated the copper hue of her skin. Simple jewelry. Ebony hair cascading in loose curls down her back and shoulders.

Except that time he didn't say anything, and she ignored how that same gaze made her feel...too much like it did the night at dinner.

Instead, he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, fighting a widening smile. His eyes snapped back up to meet hers. "Ready to go?"

She nodded, taking one last deep breath – knowing it would have to last – before she pointed down the street. "So the venue is only a few blocks that way. I figured maybe we could walk."

It was Embry's turn to nod, his hands once again finding a home in his pockets. "Sure."

The pair walked in silence for a minute, the only sound coming from Leah's heels on the concrete beneath them. Eyes closing, Leah searched her mind for something to say. Questions to ask, only a few immediately coming to mind...

_The first meeting he had with the investor. His mom. How she was doing. If he had checked out the Museum of Science yet..._

None of it was right.

"So...good news..."

Lifting her head, Leah held tighter to her clutch, looking to her left to find Embry already watching her. His eyes were soft, his expression filled with a subdued excitement. One she could see by the way his eyes danced when they looked at her.

She raised her eyebrows expectantly, even though she already had a feeling she knew what he was about to say.

"The meeting Monday went...well," he continued, his gaze trained ahead of him as the smile once again played at his lips.

Leah's eyebrows arched expectantly. "Just well?"

Embry shrugged, his hands still in his pockets. "I met with the guy's lawyer and with a couple people on their finance team. We went over numbers, the business plan, all the fun stuff..." He glanced at her briefly before looking away. "And they liked what I had to say. They only want to take forty percent, which was kind of a relief..."

Fingers playing with the hem of her tank top, a knowing smile threatened to overtake her expression. "So I was right," she breathed knowingly.

Next to her, Embry chuckled. "You were right," he repeated. "I think it's good news. We have another meeting scheduled for Friday, only this time I get to meet with the head guy himself."

Raising one eyebrow, Leah watched him. The modest pride he wore on his features, how the corners of his mouth were turned into an easy smile. "That's great, Em...," she finally said. "You got past the hard part. The legal flak and number crunchers are usually the hardest to win over."

"I know," he said quickly. "Jake was pretty relieved when I told him. If things keep going good, we might be able to get the money and get started before Bella has the baby..."

Leah's steps faltered slightly at his words, the reality of each one registering somewhere inside her. She hadn't really thought about it until that moment – the fact he had probably been talking to Jacob on a regular basis since she and Embry first ran into one another.

A subtle fear panged in her gut, and she eyed Embry warily. "You haven't...told him, have you?"

Peering down at the ground, Embry shook his head. "No, I haven't told him you're here." He lifted his gaze, watching her hesitantly in return. "I haven't told anyone."

Leah let out a soft sigh of relief, footsteps ceasing when her eyes fixed on the stoplight, waiting for the walk signal. "Thank you," she murmured, refusing to look at him that time.

Beside her, she could hear Embry's feet shuffle on the concrete as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Like he was buying himself time for something.

Leah swallowed thickly.

"You know...Seth said he might come work for me if we get the money for the second shop...," he ventured hesitantly.

Stomach lurching at the mention of her brother's name, Leah tried to suppress the urge to grimace, a part of her suspecting Embry had brought Seth into the conversation on purpose. That he was pushing the boundaries she'd set the night outside the Park Hyatt. While she made an attempt to talk to her mother every few months, it had been even longer since she last talked to Seth.

It was something she tried not to think about...how long it had really been. How she had called her mother one day. How after talking to her for a handful of minutes, Leah asked to talk to her brother, only to have her mother tell her with a painful and tired sigh that he was busy and couldn't come to the phone.

Leah had asked that Seth call her back.

He never had.

She tried not to let it bother her but on her worst days it didn't matter how much she pushed. No matter how much she tried to ignore it. She lost count of the number of times she sat cross-legged on her bed with her cell phone in her hands, wanting to call him. Staying like that. Frozen, only to put down the phone when she realized she would never dial the numbers.

Because if he wanted to talk to her, he would have called her back.

But he hadn't, and the only reason Leah could come up with was that he'd finally had enough.

That he'd finally decided to not forgive her for leaving.

_Just another thing she tried not to think about..._

She hated herself for it...for letting it get to that point. For not doing anything about it because the only thing she could do would mean going back to the very thing she spent every day trying to escape.

Swallowing, Leah blinked frantically as the sidewalk came into focus. She nodded as the walk light flashed. "I'm glad you guys are taking care of him."

She finally ventured a glance at Embry, meeting his eyes. "We don't do that much," he admitted, looking away. "He's a good kid, Leah."

He was pushing, gently but harder, and Leah had to fight back the burn inside her. Knowing it wouldn't help a single thing at that point. Inhaling deeply, she peered over at him. Smiling when he met her eyes.

Ending the discussion.

Attempting to change the subject to something that didn't reek of regret and shame.

"He always was," she pushed the words out.

Another handful of silent moments passed. She could almost hear Embry contemplating beside her, his breaths uneven and heavy. Unsure and anxious.

"When's the last time you talked to him?"

Blinking, Leah threw a glance toward the street. Away from him, so maybe the words would get lost when she spoke them.

"It's been awhile," was all she could give him.

They had just rounded the corner – dozens of bodies lining up outside the venue for the concert, the queue of people finally visible – when he spoke again.

"He misses you, you know."

The words were too much, and Leah almost stopped walking, feet heavy and her mind suddenly frazzled by Embry's words. He was doing it again. Pushing. Making her remember. Finding one small chink in impenetrable armor and hammering at it. Incessantly, while hardly saying anything at all.

"Things haven't been the same around home since you left, Leah..."

"I'm sure they've been better..." The self-admonishing words tumbled from her mouth before she could think. "One less person going batshit crazy and disfiguring faces."

Her lips barely closed before she heard him.

"Leah..."

It took her a moment for his voice to register inside her head. For her to realize what she said, and what it probably meant to him when she said it, knowing the words went against every claim she made of being fine.

To notice he had stopped walking.

She finally hesitated a second later, turning to face him. Her name falling from his mouth a plea she'd heard before.

Embry's face was creased with a heavy concern when she looked back at him, and she took a heavy, dismayed breath, buying herself time. Trying to come up with something to say to smooth over the tension she'd caused completely on her own.

With a sigh, she held his gaze, her lips parting as she finally found the strength to speak. "Listen...I miss him too, Embry. But I'm not going back."

She tried to ignore the small, knowing smile that pulled at the corner of his mouth. "Never asked you to," he replied quietly. "Just making conversation."

Fidgeting uncomfortably, Leah's fingers curled tighter around her clutch. "I know..." she murmured. "But let's leave home at home, okay?" She swallowed, relaxing her expression. Trying like hell to soften the lines around her mouth and eyes. Smiling. "Let's just enjoy tonight...me and you."

His face was expressionless as he watched her intently, jaw tightening, and for a split second, she thought maybe he had seen it. Maybe the moment she slipped and put that damage on full display had been enough.

Maybe it would be Embry who changed his mind.

For a quick, inexplicable moment, she found herself wildly hoping he wouldn't. The feeling disappearing almost as quickly as it came.

He smiled anyway, the simple gesture causing her arms to tingle and inexplicably go cold.

"Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys...hopefully this chapter didn't seem too uneventful, but it actually was pretty important. I had a lot more slated for this one but it was giving me hell and I decided to split it into two to keep it from becoming stupidly long (not that you would have complained, haha).
> 
> Also, sorry it was a little late this week. My best friend got married this weekend and I was in the wedding, so I was crazy busy these past four days. On that note, maybe I'll get the next one up a little sooner than scheduled. ;)
> 
> Anyway...what did you think of this one? Can't wait to hear your thoughts!


	6. Closer

_**Suggested Listening: "Siren" by Tori Amos, "This Is The Thing" by Fink, "Landfill" by Daughter, "Closer" by Kings of Leon** _

The club where the concert was being held was already packed with bodies by the time Leah and Embry made it inside. Hugging her clutch tightly to her chest, Leah could feel Embry's overpowering presence directly behind her, fingers protectively brushing against her elbow. He clasped it lightly, clearly not giving it much thought as she navigated through the thick crowd.

She let him.

By some miracle, she managed to find a small, empty table near the edge of the floor. The band – a local group that happened to be one of her favorites – was already on stage, playing the first song in a set list she had heard before.

It was a familiar setting. She'd come here once before...with Jason. Back in the beginning. In a rare moment where loneliness won out above everything else.

It was another good place to forget. The lights were low, the music was good, and the drinks were affordable.

"I'm gonna go grab a couple drinks!"

Blinking, Leah turned, eyes focusing on Embry who was looking at her expectantly. His brows lifted before he leaned in closer, trying to be heard over the music. "What do you want?"

Finally releasing her unyielding grip on her clutch, Leah offered him a small smile as she placed it on the smooth tabletop.

_It still wasn't difficult..._

"Whiskey and water. Thanks."

Leah watched him go, his tall figure easy to follow in the crowd before it was swallowed by the throngs of bodies packed onto the floor, some dancing, others simply bouncing and raising their glasses to the ceiling. She let her eyes sweep the area surrounding her. The air reeked of stale alcohol and sweat, and flashing colored lights illuminated the floor, leaving spots in her vision whenever she looked away.

Leah took a deep breath, inhaling sharply through her teeth. Closing her eyes, her hands wrapped around the edge of the table, trying like hell to find her bearings. To push back the abrupt but rattling conversation they had outside. How Embry seemed to know the exact times to push and just the right moments to pull back.

It was like he knew something she didn't. Like he  _saw_  something she didn't.

She wasn't sure what game he was playing...or what he was hoping to accomplish...but pulling in a lungful of air, little by little, she could feel her determination regrouping. She meant what she said to him, and whatever it was he had planned, she was putting an end to it.

That night.

She had gone this long, and there was no room in her life for him. For any of it. Not anymore.

But it didn't stop his words from echoing somewhere in the back of her mind. Scratching. Annoying. Unyielding.

_He misses you, you know..._

_Things haven't been the same since you left, Leah..._

Leah didn't have time to overthink it. She didn't have time to try to figure it out, because she could hear a familiar voice behind her. One that was still too far away and one she shouldn't have been able to hear, but one she was able to anyway.

A voice calling her name.

"Leah!"

It took only a second to recognize its owner.

Her lips pressed into a determined line, Leah waited a moment before peering over her shoulder, greeted by a huge smile approaching her from several feet away. The expression was framed by bobbing crimson red hair, the person who owned both pushing her way through the people toward the table Leah occupied.

"I didn't know you were gonna be here!"

Autumn's voice was clearer as she drew closer, throwing her hands up in surprise, closing the distance between them.

"Hey," Leah greeted her assistant hesitantly, her eyes falling on a strange man trailing a couple feet behind Autumn. He grinned at her in return, one hand lifting in an amicable, subtle wave.

Autumn's jubilant laughter filled the space between them, easily rising above the noise of the venue. "I also didn't know you liked this band..." Her gaze left Leah's, eyebrows arching expectantly before glancing over her shoulder and surveying the space surrounding them. "Are you here alone?"

Swallowing back the sudden ball of flames in her throat, Leah shook her head, forcing her hand to motion toward the bar. Suddenly hoping there was either a long line to get drinks or Embry would take his time. She didn't want to have to explain him to Autumn. To answer her questions come morning.

"No, I'm here with a friend," she choked out.

Unfazed, Autumn's eyebrows stayed where they were, a pleased look flickering across Autumn's rosy face. "That's awesome, Lee. You're the last person I expected to run into here, but I'm glad I did." Autumn let her eyes linger happily on Leah before they suddenly went wide, remembering the man standing behind her. "Oh, shit! Leah, this is my boyfriend, Connor."

Letting her mouth relax into a friendly smile, Leah took a step forward, offering her hand to the man hovering a few feet back. He took it, giving her hand a light shake. "Nice to meet you, Leah. Autumn talks about you a lot."

Leah chuckled, holding the man's steady gaze. "I can only imagine..."

Connor winked from behind his thick, black-rimmed glasses. "Only good things."

"Of  _course_  good things!" Autumn gave his arm a playful slap. "This woman is too good at her job. If I ever spoke bad about her, she'd have no trouble making me disappear," she joked just before her eyes drifted aimlessly over Leah's shoulder.

Laughing, Leah's eyes fell to the floor, staring at the toe of her shoe. "Well, you know that would never happen because then I'd have to replace you, and we both know you're one of the few people in this city who can put up with some of our clients..."

Autumn peered at Leah when her eyes lifted, cheeks pushing up her own red glasses before looking back to the spot over her shoulder.

Leah's stomach wrenched, her assistant's distracted gaze proving that her hopes had gone unanswered.

Releasing a heavy sigh, she allowed herself to look, the smile fading from her lips.

Embry was standing just behind her, one elbow leaning against the table, her drink resting in his hand. He was watching her. When her eyes met his, he reached out with a smirk, nonchalantly offering her the whiskey and water.

"You need to make more noise," Leah grumbled, fighting her smile's imminent return as she took the glass from him.

"You need to listen better," he teased back as she turned away from him. It didn't matter though. She heard his footsteps that time, his body moving so it was directly beside her. Not waiting for introductions as he offered his hand to Autumn, who gaped at it for a moment. Her eyes lingered before she silently snapped to her senses, taking his hand in hers, Embry's copper skin contrasting sharply with Autumn's milky white flesh.

Leah didn't miss the flabbergasted squeak escape Autumn's throat, words failing her.

"I'm Embry..."

Autumn was still staring, and Leah had to fight the urge to roll her eyes.

"And you are?"

Leah could almost imagine how high that eyebrow of his was. She didn't look, instead letting her own eyes bore holes through Autumn. It was something she had once been used to but nothing she had seen in awhile. Shaking her head, she eventually glanced at Connor, who seemed oblivious to the entire awkward greeting playing out in front of him.

"Oh!" Autumn suddenly found her voice, overdoing it as she continued to shake Embry's hand. "I'm Autumn...Autumn Gallagher. I'm Leah's assistant at the firm."

"Oh, so you work together?" Embry asked, one curious eyebrow still raised.

"Yup," Autumn confirmed as Embry took another step forward, moving past her as he quickly introduced himself to Connor. Autumn took that moment to glower at Leah, her jaw dropping as she gaped at her in stunned silence. Leah wasn't sure, but she was pretty sure she caught the younger woman mouthing the words  _oh my god_.

That time, Leah did roll her eyes.

"So how do you two know each other?" Autumn pressed on, ignoring the cold warning stare Leah was positive she was giving her. Autumn allowed a coy grin to spread across her mouth, eyes flitting back and forth between Leah and Embry.

Embry lowered his gaze, hesitantly glancing at the floor before his eyes found Leah's. Her lips parted slightly, the words refusing to come as the music from the band drowned out any coherent thought she tried to string together. Still, it didn't mask what she was afraid of. Why she wanted to avoid this.

It also didn't disguise the fact that even though it shouldn't have mattered, she didn't really know  _what_  Embry was to her anymore.

_A friend...a pack brother...the guy who once pulled over to pick her up off the side of the road._

_The shy, insecure boy who kissed her in her kitchen..._

None of it really applied. Not anymore.

Her mouth dry, words completely lost, Embry took a deep breath, his smile staying where it was when he turned back to Autumn. Answering for Leah.

"I'm a friend from home," he answered swiftly. Confidently. Barely missing a beat, like that word...that distinction...was something he never questioned.

It made her stomach ache, the guilt a thick knot gathering in her throat.

Swallowing it down, Leah looked at Autumn just in time to see her nod slowly, her eyes flicking curiously toward Leah and back to Embry. "And where's that exactly?" she asked tentatively, quietly, leaning into Connor. Almost as if she was afraid of Leah's reaction once she heard the question.

Embry's lips parted in surprise, his brows lifting in subtle shock. He glanced at Leah, a million questions suddenly running through those dark eyes as each one knocked the breath from her lungs.

Leah had to look away.

She meant it. She never talked about home. Not to Autumn. Not to anyone.

But in that moment, Embry didn't seem to care.

In that moment, he decided to push.

She could feel him look away, her breath returning the second his eyes were somewhere else.

"La Push," he answered promptly, offering Autumn a half-smile. "It's a small reservation on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington. I'm surprised Leah's never told you about it."

Leah caught herself grinding her teeth together when Autumn shrugged nonchalantly at Embry's question. "Her favorite subject is work..." Autumn replied playfully. "She usually doesn't talk about much else." Glancing at her, Autumn offered Leah a smile and a subtle wink.

When Embry returned the laugh, Leah couldn't help the groan that slipped past her lips. "I'm still here, you know," she reminded, releasing her own nervous laugh.

Autumn let her eyes drop sheepishly, letting her shoulders rise and fall once again. "Sorry, boss lady. I'm just kind of intrigued." She was staring at Leah again, one hand propped lazily on her hip while the other clasped the bottle in her hand. "I meet this guy and I automatically think he's the one person who can help me figure out the mystery that is Leah Clearwater. I've been waiting almost a year for this moment, you know."

Embry's hearty laugh beside her had Leah shaking her head, a grin threatening the corners of her mouth.

"Seriously though," Autumn pressed, turning her wide eyes on Embry to Leah and back again. "I feel like I don't know any of those things about you, so...that's really interesting. To hear more about you came from, I mean."

"That's too bad..." Embry's voice was low, and Leah caught herself wondering if anyone had heard him but her. She raised her eyes, meeting his. Finding him already watching her, a small smile still attached to his lips.

"So how long are you in town, Embry?"

It took a moment for him to hear Autumn, for Leah's eyes to unknowingly release him. When he did, he was staring at his own feet, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "A couple weeks," he replied quietly. "I flew in last Friday for work."

Autumn smiled, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Well, I hope you have fun while you're here. Chicago's great," she insisted.

Embry nodded, silently agreeing with her, but didn't speak another word. No one moved, the sounds of the club wrapping around each of them and drowning out the silence. It wasn't until Connor stepped forward, nodding with a polite smile, his fingers curling around Autumn's arm.

"Well, it was nice meeting you both," he murmured. Autumn responded with a quick breath, jerking her head to look at him, almost like she realized she and Connor were beginning to overstay their welcome.

"Yeah, it was nice meeting you, Embry," she said hurriedly before glancing at Leah. "You two have fun." Her back was turned, Connor clasping her hand tightly before she called over her shoulder. "Hey, find us later if you're still here! We'll hit up the Golden Nugget for pancakes. Nothing better to soak up the booze..."

With a wink, Autumn was gone.

Shaking her head, Leah chuckled as she closed her eyes, bringing her glass to her lips and taking a drink. Returning it to the table, her eyes opened to the sound of it hitting the table beneath her forearms.

Embry was already watching her. The curiosity gone, replaced by a deep concern that made her shift uncomfortably in her place.

Leah sighed, silently wondering how the fuck he always managed to do that.

"So it probably shouldn't surprise me you don't talk about home to anyone here either..."

Shrugging, Leah let her stare lower to the drink in front of her, fingers playing absentmindedly with the straw. "What can I tell them?" she responded pointedly, the defeat leaking through her tone. Refusing to look at him. "That I'm Quileute? That I used to be a person who morphed into a giant dog?" Finally looking up, her eyes narrowed insistently. "I don't  _do_  that anymore, Embry. It's not who I am, so even if I could tell people about it...why would I?"

Embry's mouth opened, almost like he was going to push it, but Leah watched his jaw relax. As he thought better about it, remembering his promise to her standing outside the venue. To leave home out of it.

But he'd already broken that promise, and was far from letting it go completely.

"You know, she makes it sound like you don't have friends here."

Leah ran one hand through her hair distractedly, his subdued pressure causing that same heat she felt standing on the curb outside Blackbird to materialize in her limbs. To simmer just beneath her skin, craving some kind of release.

Reassuring her once again that if things went her way, she'd find it...somehow.

First, she had to get things back on track.

Doing her best to distract herself, Leah stabbed at the ice in her glass. Avoiding his eyes, knowing it would only make things worse. "I have friends," she lied, "just not as many as Autumn wants me to have apparently. I was never any good at making friends, Em. You know that."

She could almost hear Embry's sigh from across the table. "That's not what I remember..."

Leah couldn't stop the scoff that fell from her lips, unable to avoid Embry's gaze any longer. She met his eyes, leaning her forearms harder against the table as she watched him.

"That was six years ago, Embry. No one stays the same after six years," she replied earnestly, her sincerity pulling her closer to him. "I grew up...and I'm fine with what I have."

She closed her mouth, still watching Embry.

Realizing quickly he wasn't going to budge. She could see it in those eyes. Never-changing. Steady. Forgiving in the worst possible way.

Still looking at her exactly the same way. Before she said it. Before it  _all_. Before she left. Before she messed everything up.

Almost like he didn't believe a single word she was saying.

It made her livid that he seemed so sure of himself, rendering her speechless at exactly the same time. She had realized it before, but it slammed home for her in that moment.

She had no idea how to deal with this version of Embry.

While she sat there, telling him how she changed, she could see how much he had changed as well. How his boyish shyness had turned into a subtle, intense confidence. How the passivity of youth had evaporated, replaced by something else. By a quiet resolve. A desire to keep himself there, right where he was.

Only reinforcing one thing. What she planned to do...

She no longer had a choice.

_It was now or never._

And even though it was going to be hard, it had to be done. She had to  _hurt_  him because that gentle soul was still there. She could see it clearly... _always_...peering back at her through those fucking onyx eyes.

She closed hers, doing the only thing she could think of. Looking away. Avoiding.

 _Again_.

Allowing herself to try one last time. To give him a reason – a solid, tangible reason – to walk away. To make him believe it was  _his_  choice, even though by that point it felt like she was grasping at straws.

"You need to stop looking at me like that..."

Embry blinked, leaning closer to her, his face expressionless. "Like what?"

"Like running into me last week was the best thing that ever happened to you," she admitted quietly. "Because it probably woulda been better had you not."

"Why do you say that?"

"I can fucking  _see_  it, Embry," she responded sharply. "You think you need me in your life...in the pack's life, for whatever reason...but you don't."

Embry's sigh grated at her nerves.

"Did someone tell you that?"

"They don't have to..." she answered resolutely, somehow standing her ground. Somehow managing to hold his eyes.

He never faltered. He never showed any sign of backing down.

Instead, it was his turn to lean forward, his eyebrows disappearing under a fringe of ebony hair. "If they didn't tell you that...if  _I_  didn't tell you that...then how do you know?"

Breath catching in her throat, Leah's fingers curled around the edge of the table. Harder, until she had to remind herself to ease up. To let go. "I already told you," she replied hastily. "The person you keep talking about? I left her behind...I left her that night in my kitchen."

"Leah..."

Heart pounding against her ribs, she swallowed past the thick knot in her throat. Ignoring how he was countering everything she was throwing at him. How he was still crawling painstakingly under her skin, rooting himself there in a way she couldn't handle.

How he said her name. With a care and a grace she wasn't used to.

_The same way he always had..._

"You don't have to believe me," she whispered, interrupting him. "But you should, if you know what's good for you..."

But he wasn't buying it, and even if Leah hadn't been able to tell by the eerie calm on his face – by the certainty in his smile – it became all too clear when he leaned toward her, closing the gap. Eliminating the air and the noise between them so she would be sure to hear.

"Why don't you let me decide what's good for me, Leah..."

Even the music wasn't loud enough to drown out the throbbing of her heart in her ears. To mask the way the words gathered in the pit of her stomach, exploding, fanning through her limbs in the form of a vicious shudder.

She could feel his breath on her skin. On the side of her face...

And she knew he could feel her too. How she was responding to him.

Embry spoke first, causing her eyes to flutter open.

"I think about that night sometimes," he admitted, quieter that time, barely loud enough for her to hear his voice over the music. "In your kitchen..."

Leah swallowed, her pulse racing impossibly faster, heart sinking at the same time. His words striking something within, confirming what she already knew. Knowing he wasn't going to take the opportunity...that he wouldn't make the choice.

She pushed it away.

Brushing off the sudden anxiety twisting in her stomach, she replayed his words.

No matter how much he meant them, no matter how she responded to each one, he had set things up for her perfectly.

Which meant she had to answer him. She had to give him her own words. Ones she didn't really want to say – not when he was looking at her like that – because in that moment, he would believe them without question. He would take them to heart. They would  _mean_  something to him.

Even if, somehow, they would not be a lie.

Taking a deep breath, she could feel the prominent chill bumps on her arms. How close his hand was to hers on top of the table.

Holding the air in her lungs, she let one finger reach out. Brushing carefully...affectionately...across his knuckles.

Letting a smile spread across her lips.

Rehearsed...

_Yet still real._

She said the words anyway.

"Me, too."

She saw him smile, noticing when he took a step back, his hand slowly disappearing from beneath hers. Pulling himself away from the table. Her fingers curled into a fist, unable to hear anything except the music surrounding them.

She watched him anyway. Letting her eyes sweep over the softness of his face, the candor in it. The ripple of relief that passed over his expression at her gesture. Her admittance.

_It was done..._

And for some inexplicable reason, it killed her.

He looked away first, hand wrapping around his empty glass before saying something she didn't hear. Before stepping away, his gaze lingering before turning his back, once again disappearing into the crowd.

Leah took her first breath in what felt like hours.

Like always, doing her best to steel herself. To get rid of the goose bumps. To wish away the warmth that still lingered on the tip of her finger. The way it heated her insides.

"Dammit..."

It didn't matter who Embry was...what he had once done for her. What he was doing now. When it was all over, he would be gone, and she'd never have to look into those eyes again. She'd never have to see what she'd done, the mistakes she made.

The means would justify the end, and she'd never be reminded of what she left behind.

One last time, Leah closed her eyes. Centering herself, the last traces of him were pulled inward, and she let her surroundings filter through all five senses until she was aware of everything around her. The energy of it tingling beneath her skin, filling her, reminding her that what she carried within...what she exuded to those around her, drawing them in...was so much more than human.

No matter how much of it she'd given up, she would always have that...and it had always served its purpose.

_Just as it would tonight..._

Lips parting, Leah took a step back from the table.

Moving toward the dance floor, she waited. To be there when Embry came looking. She didn't know where he was, but she knew he'd be back soon...because she could feel it starting.

She could feel  _him_...somewhere.

It was the same unmistakable feeling she got whenever a random pair of eyes sought her out in a Friday-night crowd. How her pulse sped up, skin crawling just slightly. Her awareness heightened to a level impossible to any woman except her.

Pushing everything else from her mind...

_He had already found her._

Closing her eyes inherently, she could feel it...her body responding to his eyes, somewhere in the mess of people descending on the dance floor.

He was watching.

Wherever he was, he was watching  _her_.

When the band started playing its next song – a heady, slower number – the crowd fluidly transitioned with it, some abandoning the floor while other bodies drew closer to each other, arms sliding around waists and legs slipping between thighs.

Leah stayed where she was. Alone. Her strong, sensual frame taking a single step forward. The lights overhead reflecting off her glistening flesh, a thin sheen of sweat already forming on the surface of her skin.

The breath Leah took was shaky, air pushing something foreign through her veins. Bringing her hand up, she ignored how her fingers trembled when she traced the curve of her neck. Palm brushing the smooth, copper skin of her chest, eventually resting on her stomach.

She still didn't know if it would work. She didn't know if he'd respond the same way the others had. Each and every one of them had been predictable...easy. Strangers who played into her game without a second thought.

Embry wasn't  _them_.

Embry wasn't a stranger.

But Leah didn't have time to think. She didn't have time to question, glancing carefully over her shoulder to see him gingerly pushing his way through the crowd, a new drink in his hand.

Still watching her...

Before she turned away, she let her eyes catch his.

_One..._

Long enough for his footsteps to stop. Long enough for lips to part slightly, his intense gaze locked unforgivingly with hers. Long enough for her to stomach to churn uncomfortably beneath everything else.

_Two..._

Long enough for Leah to take inhale deeply, offering him a smile she saved only for moments she needed it most.

_Three..._

He smiled back...

That same soft smile that punched a hole straight through her, twisting her nerves in endless, inexplicable knots. She couldn't drop her gaze. She counted to four...to five...her own smile receding before she finally reached six, managing to rip her eyes away.

_Too long..._

Leah was shaking by the time she turned her back to him, instinctively closing her eyes, her body remaining still as she took one last calming breath. Letting the music filter through her ears and spread through her veins, eventually begging her body to respond. To move to its rhythm.

She complied effortlessly, both hands skimming softly over her thighs, hips finally swaying with the music. Her movements slow. Subtle.  _Seductive_. A silent invitation to whomever cared to join.

There was only one she wanted.

Leah could hear him drawing closer, her frame sweeping lithely from side to side, arms lifting gracefully above her head. Curves caressed the thick, charged air surrounding her.

She could pick out his scent among it all. A rich musk...a delicate sweetness laced with the slightest hint of pine and sea.

_The scent of home._

Heart pounding, it kept time to the music as it picked up speed. As the chorus grew in both volume and intensity, echoing her movements. As she fought the urge to open her eyes and look behind her.

She didn't need to...

Leah's lips parted when the same scent was suddenly right behind her, consuming her. A familiar heat encroaching on the space her pliant body occupied, lush curves moving easily to a steady, intoxicating beat. Calling to him.

_It had been easier than she though..._

Heart slamming forcefully against her ribs, a wild anticipation pushed viciously through Leah's veins when she heard him make the faintest of noises in his throat. A growl, buried deep in the confines of his chest.

Running her fingers through her hair, she breathed in the fact he was still behind her. Holding on to that sound. Drawing in that scent. Keeping it somewhere.

She took a step back...

Feeling the planes of a firm chest ghost across the curve of her spine.

It took her breath away...in a way she didn't recognize. The electricity caused by their bodies connecting. Incinerating everything that stood in their way.

Leah didn't question it.

She didn't try to control the way her body responded to him. How it was drawn further into his, completely on its own. How her lips parted...breath catching in her throat...the moment she felt blazing fingers graze the back of her shoulders. Hesitant, even as they explored, tracing heated, invisible lines along her flesh.

She held the air in her lungs. She kept moving, allowing herself to be completely pulled into his presence. Surrounded by it, the same moment she felt his hands slide slowly to her hips.

_This was it..._

And for one split second – the moment she leaned her head against his shoulder, shivering when his breath ghosted through her hair – she reveled in the heat that matched her own, because it didn't feel like before. It didn't feel like the rest...the others...and she wasn't sure she wanted it to end...

But it had to.

She kept dancing.

She tried to ignore it...the way her head swam with the heady combination of music and heat. How his fingers tightened around her waist, pushing beneath the hem of her shirt. Brushing against bare flesh.

Following her lead, he put the moment in her hands. Silently swearing to follow her, just as he had back when she was young and he was stupid and neither one knew any better.

It made no sense...why he would. Why he would trust her so implicitly when he knew everything about her. Every secret. Every ghost. How just minutes earlier she had told him not to need it. Not to need  _her_.

Yet he was still there, touching her. Hands brushing across her skin, massaging the sweat back into her skin. Making her remember in an entirely different way. How it had been so long since she felt a pair of hands that warm. How it had been so long since she felt so consumed.

So  _alive_.

She  _couldn't_  question it...

Because despite everything – despite how it would end and how much he would hate her when it was over – she needed it too.

His hands moved, the music slowing down once more.

Fingers splayed needfully against her midsection. Holding her to him.

_Keeping her there._

Moving her arms, one hand lowered slowly until Leah felt rough skin beneath her fingertips. The other reached back, searching, until it landed agilely on the back of his neck. Her fingers twisting through silky raven hair.

Still, Leah didn't look at him. Instead, she tilted her head...

Exposing her neck.

Giving him permission.

Submitting to him.

Even if she couldn't explain why. Even though her insides protested. Leah tried to forget, focusing instead on the fire coursing through her veins. Hanging on to it, the same way she always did, before it would disappear and take everything else with it.

But it didn't go anywhere, swallowing her whole the moment she felt his lips brush against her neck, tasting the flesh barely masking her pulse.

Causing her desperate fingers to curl into his skin, the quietest of moans escaping her throat. Swallowed by the noise surrounding them when he gently drug his teeth across the same spot.

Rendering her helpless.

"Leah..."

Embry spoke her name, the low hum of his voice vibrating across her skin. The way it sounded working its way inside her, wrapping around her thrumming her heart. Promising something she couldn't count on.

_No words..._

The band played the final chord when Leah twisted in Embry's arms, the audience exploding around them the moment she faced him. The moment her fingers dug into his neck and he peered down at her, silently begging her to look at him.

She refused, instead moving the same way she had years before. Closing her eyes. Pushing against her toes and pulling him to her, surprised how he easily he moved beneath her hands.

Covering his mouth with hers.

In that moment, six years washed away. For a split second, she could remember what it felt like. Before...how good it felt when his soft lips brushed against hers.

Just like it felt now.

How he tasted exactly the same. How good it made her feel.

How easy it would  _still_  be...

How there was nothing dirty about it. Nothing shameful. Nothing broken.

Even if it would be soon...

Except there was no hesitance. No uncertainty. Embry wasn't gentle, fingers twisting through her hair, one arm wrapping possessively around her body. Bringing her impossibly closer. Encouraging her to get lost in the way his body felt pressed against hers.

_Still so easy..._

He pulled away before she did, one hand clasping her face, tilting it towards his. The audience around them disappearing when he forced her to look in his eyes. The breath evaporating from her lungs when she finally met them. Seeing a passion she didn't understand. A desire she wasn't expecting.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she silenced him with another swift, frantic kiss.

Whispering her own words against his lips.

"Let's get out of here..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, boy. So I suppose you can guess what comes next... ?
> 
> So I wanted to thank all of you who have stuck with me! Those who know me know I'm a pretty big fan of angst and I really like my characters to hit rock bottom before building them back up. Call it the love of the journey, haha. That being said, there are probably only another couple chapters of this crippling angst. It WILL GET BETTER. There will still be moments, but it will get better. I promise.
> 
> ANYWAY...thoughts on this chapter?


	7. Unravel

_**Suggested Listening: "Cruel" by Tori Amos, "Letters From The Sky" by Civil Twilight, "Smother" by Daughter** _

The air caught in her throat, the absence of it screaming in her chest when she felt cool, painted steel pressed against her back.

Leah's eyes flew open, the icy surface soaking through her thin tank top. Looking up, her lungs burned, fighting to recover from the shock to her already frenetic senses. To draw breath between parted lips.

He never gave her a chance.

A knowing, ardent smile spread slowly across her lips, eyes fluttering closed.

He wouldn't let her breathe.

_And she fucking loved it._

It was everything she wanted. His hands were everywhere.

 _Embry_  was everywhere.

Claiming her body – drawing the life from it – when his thick fingers dug needfully into her waist, pulling back for a single moment. Long enough to push her against the door again, roughly grinding his body against hers. A soft moan escaped her lips, one knee slipping between parted thighs as her palms curled agonizingly slow around his shoulders.

Leaning his forehead against hers, he fought for his own breath. What was left of it plumed across her flushed cheeks, fanning an excruciating fire inside her.

Black, want-filled eyes holding her hostage, silently telling her that he'd waited for this. That he'd  _wanted_  this for longer than even he understood.

That he wanted  _her_.

Leah closed her eyes. She closed her eyes on it all, digging her fingers harder into the thin fabric covering the skin just below his neck.

Holding on for dear life, just before the fire of his mouth hungrily sought out hers. Without restraint. Without second thought.

The entire way back to her apartment, neither of them spoke. She walked first, keeping her eyes ahead. Her fingers curled tightly around Embry's, leading him. Refusing to look back – to remember who it was behind her.

He let her. He followed.

Like an animal being led to slaughter...

Leah shuddered, but it wasn't because of him. It wasn't how his tongue parted her lips, sweeping eagerly against hers – in the way she could feel the proof of what she was doing to him pressed prominently against her thigh. It wasn't in the way his fingers wound through her hair, tugging, almost like he was trying to hurt her even though she knew he never would.

As he encouraged something in her. As he tried to draw out something he thought she was holding back.

As he tried to bring the fire in her to the surface.

It wasn't because of that.

It was the sweetness of his lips. That fucking too familiar scent. The warmth of his presence – a kind she wasn't used to – that despite everything crawled on every inch of her skin, unforgivingly infiltrating her senses.

_Reminding her he wasn't one of them..._

But she wouldn't fight with herself. Not then. Not in that moment. Not even when his mouth, his hands, his hard body pressed against hers, tried to sweep away every guard she had in place.

She felt her fingers move. Falling.

Curling around his arms, Leah pushed back.

_Regaining control._

One arm kept her against him when she found herself facing the other direction. When she felt one large hand clasp the back of her head. She held onto him as he pulled her under yet again, his lips abandoning hers as they traced a heated trail up the length of her jaw. Dragging his teeth against her earlobe, her own mouth opened, finally able to draw in a breath.

She wrapped her arms tighter around his neck.

Pine and sea burned her nostrils.

Ensnaring her pounding heart.

She pushed again. Turning her face, she recaptured his mouth with hers, taking his bottom lip between her teeth. Tasting his breath as it intertwined with hers. As her feet moved beneath her, leading him toward the kitchen, her fingernails dug into his neck, marking his flesh with crescent moons. She could feel his hands press heatedly against her back, moving lower until both palms traveled roughly under fabric, inexplicably searing against her skin.

"Where do you wanna go?"

Blinking, she had to take a moment. To realize he had spoken. To hear what he said. To register how breathless his words were, sending a subtle shiver through her veins as he whispered them into her hair.

The question already had an answer...

Rarely did she ever bring them home. The only time she did was when there was no other option. When she was short on time and patience and ready to pull apart at the seams.

And when she did, she never let them in her bed.

Still, Leah couldn't ignore a part of her buried deep. One trying desperately to claw its way to surface, begging her to drag this out. To savor it while she had the chance. To let him worship every inch of her.

Because by tomorrow, he'd know what she was doing. Why she'd done it.

And the chance would be gone...

_No..._

She closed her eyes again, pushing it away. Remembering her own rules when she pressed a hard, open-mouthed kiss to the place where his shoulder met his neck. Biting down as her fingers curled around his biceps.

The bed was a place for relationships, for an intimacy she didn't want.

_This was no exception..._

She had to take hold of his hands before she could push herself away. She had to make him let go as he finally allowed each one to fall to his sides. Lips parting slightly, she took a step back, blinking in disbelief when she was finally able to see the dazed expression on Embry's soft face. Noticing how his chest heaved, trying to catch his breath. How his eyes watched her, taking in every movement, every curve, every inch of her body beckoning to him.

Noticing how she already missed the absence of heat against her.

 _His_  heat...

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she let her mouth curl into a tempting smile. Her fingers grasped the hem of her tank top as she took another step back, clasping the fabric tighter.

Embry disappeared for a split second as she moved, pulling the piece of clothing over her head.

Her own breath caught when she finally saw him again. When she watched him take an uncontrolled step toward her.

Heart pounding against her ribs, it pushed the blood through her body, awakening her instincts. Giving her back some semblance of control now that there was distance between them. Still, she never let go of his gaze. She never lost sight of the fire in those eyes as they tracked her movements, cataloging them. Taking each one in as her hands moved, fingers slipping around the button of her shorts. Lowering once it was undone, a zipper following soon after.

Once she felt the cool air on her skin, she straightened, swallowing thickly but never losing the smile still resting on her lips. Ignoring how the way he watched her made her tremble just slightly. How being on display for him felt  _new_. Foreign.

_How it made her nervous..._

Her back hit the kitchen island, but she never faltered. Instead she focused on the man in front of her. How he was shaking too, his jaw tight. Those eyes on fire, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. Restricting hands that wanted to touch – that wanted to  _explore_  while his body held them back, waiting for permission.

Reaching behind her, Leah let one hand curl around the thick, wooden surface of the island.

She held her breath as she brought the other hand up, using a single finger to beckon him. To give him what he wanted.

To take what  _she_  wanted...

He closed the distance between them faster than Leah could see, stealing her breath when his mouth covered hers once again. His hands were back, running along the smooth planes of her stomach, memorizing every contour of copper flesh as he reached around her, traveling lower.

Leah barely had a chance to savor the heat on the back of her thighs before her feet left the ground. Before she found herself placed on the kitchen island, Embry's body nestled between her legs, his lips never leaving hers as his hands curled possessively around her shoulders.

She reached up, weaving her fingers roughly through his hair. Raking her fingernails across his scalp, she couldn't help but smile against his mouth.

Silently wondering how it had all worked out.

How she could feel herself still trembling beneath his hands.

How it could be so much like the others, yet feel so different.

How she felt safe. Warm.

_Needful._

His hands were on her hips, digging into her flesh as they pulled her closer to the edge of the island. She heard the growl again, buried deep inside his chest, stealing her breath when he drug his teeth across her bottom lip.

Claiming her mouth again, he pushed the warmth through her veins. Encouraging it in the best possible way.

Causing it to explode in a haze of red when she felt his hand between her thighs, pushing aside her panties.

Leah gasped breathlessly into his mouth when he ran his fingers through the slick heat gathering there, her body immediately arching toward him. Wanting more.

She pulled back, letting her lips brush against his cheek, his fingers teasing mercilessly. Closing her eyes as his panting breaths echoed in her ear, pushing through her hair.

Curling her arms around him tighter than she should have, fingernails dug viscerally into copper flesh, trying to pull him closer.

She was losing herself completely. Drowning in an unrecognizable sea of red. One that, in a single instant, was entirely too much and not enough.

She _needed_  more. Of his hands. Of his mouth. Of the  _burning_  inside her.

Of the person she clung to...

All of it.

All of  _him_.

But he ruined it...

He ruined it the moment he pulled back. The moment she felt  _both_  hands on her thighs and the subtle, slow movement of a name whispered in her ear.

Reminding her it wasn't going the way she had planned...

Because his voice was too sincere – too soft – as his words worked their way inside her.

" _I've missed you..."_

Leah's stomach wrenched violently, pushing forward a crippling realization, mixing dangerously with the heat consuming her.

_She was screwing it up..._

Closing her eyes, she tried to pull herself together. To bring herself back to Earth. To ignore how she was still wrapped around him and how he didn't wait for her response, his blazing mouth finding purchase on the flushed skin of her neck.

He tasted her. His movements intense. Slow. Purposeful.

_Not like the others..._

Hands pressed through the thin cotton of his shirt, pushing against the straining muscles in his back. No doubt leaving streaks of red against copper as her fingernails moved down. She took his earlobe between her teeth. Biting harder than she wanted to.

Letting herself say her own words against his flesh.

Stop talking," she whispered breathlessly into his skin. "Just fuck me..."

Careless. Distant. Rough. The words made her intentions clear. They were ones she said before...numerous times, but it didn't matter.

It didn't change how each one burned like acid on her tongue.

But she let her hands move, leaning back as her fingers raked down the planes of his chest. Taking his shirt between tight fists, she pulled him back, finding his lips again. Pressing hers roughly against them.

Ignoring how his were no longer as insistent...

She lowered her hands, fingers curling possessively around the button of his jeans.

Ignoring how his lips stilled just slightly.

Ignoring the noise he made in his throat.

How he tried to pull away...

But she couldn't ignore it because it was enough for her to notice. To overtake everything else, his hands tightening around her shoulders – not in a way she wanted. Like he was preparing to push.

Silently putting words to a hesitation rising to the surface.

He was pausing. Taking in  _her_  words. He was  _thinking_.

For some unexplainable reason, it made her angry. Releasing a low, lustful growl, she tried to pull him back. They had come this far, and she wasn't letting go. Not until she was done. Not until he served his purpose like all the others.

Not until he helped her feel  _something_.

Not until she finished what she started all those years ago.

Not until she  _ended_  it.

But that was the thing, her lips parting as the reality of it washed over her, mixing dangerously with roughness of his skin beneath her mouth. Amid the anger, she could feel the scratching again. That thing buried deep inside her. A cloying desperation to keep him there.

She didn't  _want_  him to stop.

But more than anything, she didn't want it to be  _over_.

She wanted him to walk away, but she didn't want him to move.

She wanted him to stay...

_For as long as he could._

And it didn't make any fucking sense.

The feeling, the moments leading up to the one she was trying to hold onto, came rushing back. The consuming heat, the misplaced sense of security, the feeling of belonging she could inexplicably make out as it wrapped its way around a heart she swore had forgotten how to beat. That had forgotten how to feel  _anything_.

But he was there, making her feel it all.

Making her heart  _pound_  from the moment his eyes found her on the dance floor.

From the moment they found her that night in the bar.

_And he was about to take it away..._

He couldn't leave... Not yet.

Not until...

_Not until..._

She couldn't fucking think.

_She wouldn't let him take it away..._

"Leah..."

She could feel his fingers at the base of her neck, gentler than they were before. She could still sense the pause in his voice.

She ignored it.

Instead, she reached up, wrapping her fingers around his wrists. Pulling him back. Her thighs found his hips. Keeping him there. Breath escaping her lips in frantic gasps, she tried to kiss him again, needing the sweetness of his breath. Needing that heat back.

"Embry...please," she whispered into his mouth, her voice foreign. The words coming from someplace that wasn't her. Bleeding with a desperation she didn't understand. One she didn't want but couldn't seem to stop as it crept its way up her throat, her airway tightening as she fought to draw in another breath.

But it didn't matter.

_It was too late..._

"Leah...come on..." He spoke against her mouth that time, pushing the words past her insistence. She could feel his hands wrap around her shoulders, preparing to push.

"Stop..."

She dug in, her fingernails threatening to pierce his flesh if she pressed any harder.

Refusing to let go.

Again...

"Shhh." She tried to silence him, painstakingly releasing him with one hand. Keeping the other where it was, she brought one finger to his lips. Doing everything she could to avoid his eyes, already knowing what she would see in them. She pressed her fingertip against his mouth before leaning forward with a rehearsed smile – a gesture that felt stupid and trite – and capturing his bottom lip between hers.

" _Leah..."_

Her name was muffled against her mouth, until he pushed again.

With a defeated, frustrated cry, she finally let him.

Finally able to see those onyx eyes, wide and surprised and pleading, she knew.

_It was over..._

She could feel the fire rising in her gut – a different kind – bringing with it an onslaught of emotions she couldn't figure out, closing her eyes as every ounce of it pushed through her veins. As it settled in her shaking limbs, causing everything she felt before to disintegrate.

Replacing it with a searing anger. A desperate frustration she could feel multiplying the longer she stayed where she was.

But her lips parted anyway, six years of practice and instinct forcing her tongue to move. Her boiling blood – an unexplainable moisture gathering in the corner of her eyes – prompting her to speak.

To run away without lifting a single finger.

"You need to go..."

The words were pushed out from between clenched teeth, and Leah had to look away, her arms curling inexplicably across her chest. Hugging her frame tightly, she suddenly felt vulnerable and on display.

It was the same moment her hands started to shake and the blood simmered just beneath her skin. She could feel herself unraveling. She could feel the walls she'd built start to crumble, losing her hold on every guard she'd put in place. The realization of it all squeezing its way through one small chink in her armor.

One  _he_  had put there.

Without even trying, because it had been done long before.

_It was too late..._

She shouldn't have looked at him, but she felt compelled to. She couldn't stop it as her gaze lifted, even if she didn't have the slightest clue what it was she was looking for.

Embry's soft stare pierced straight through her. She clung tighter to her frame, trying to hold herself together.

"Leah..."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him lift his hand, the other curled around the island just next to her thigh. Leaning on it as his fingers reached for her.

A million different emotions flared in her gut, jaw trembling when she jerked away with a sharp hiss, tearing her eyes from his. Causing his hand to freeze.

Her eyes closed, breath rushing past dry lips as she fought to catch it.

Wanting that hand, but refusing it in the same instant.

She was fucking losing it...

_She already had._

"Get out," she whispered hoarsely, focusing on anything but him. Holding onto those words like they were her last lifeline. Unsure of  _everything_  as she tried to ignore the desolate, consuming ferocity building inside her.

He touched her anyway. His fingers wrapped around her wrists, trying to get her to loosen her grip on herself.

Urging her to let go.

She held on tighter...

"Leah, look at me..."

She couldn't.

" _Look_  at me..."

She could barely hear him. Shaking her head, she kept her eyes closed, ignoring how his hands suddenly burned her flesh. Ignoring how her legs had fallen limp at his sides. How she could still feel that unexplainable moisture on her cheeks, the heat of her skin causing it to evaporate before it ever reached its destination.

Lips parting, she forced herself to open her eyes. That time ignoring how she probably looked to  _him_ , but somehow listening.

Somehow, forcing her gaze to meet his.

The pained, desperate haze in those ebony eyes caused her throbbing heart to pound harder as he leaned in closer. As that fucking scent drifted into her nostrils, wrapping itself around the tightness in her throat.

As she found her voice, speaking before he had a chance to – a barely audible plea escaping a violently protesting body.

"Please..."

She said it again, but it  _wasn't_  her voice. It wasn't something she would say, but she couldn't help it as it tumbled from her lips. She wanted to grab the word and stuff it back in her throat but she couldn't. Instead, she swallowed, tearing her gaze away from his when she realized it didn't matter anyway.

How it did little to banish the hurricane of emotion resting dangerously at the back of her throat. Every ounce of it wanting out.

His hand reached her that time, closing the distance as she felt its heat on her cheek. Brushing away the leftover wetness as a shudder ripped up her spine and a tightness threatened to close her airway completely.

_She still couldn't breathe..._

"Not like this..."

The pressure was spreading, crawling through her muscles, body tensing as she struggled to suck in deep breaths. Silently repeating his words, she tried to keep a hold on her fragile control. His palm seared her flesh, and she could feel the frustration spreading, boiling inside her body. Threatening to overtake everything the same moment she could feel the loose threads threatening to fray completely.

As she started to come undone.

As she finally realized what was happening...

He was walking away.

"What do you want, Leah?"

His voice was low – unsettled – but she barely heard it. The ironic truth to the words she was putting together inside her head spreading bitterly through her veins, the air escaping her lungs in a hoarse gasp.

Knowing it was happening  _again_.

Even though it was what she wanted all along.

Knowing it was still her fault...

And it didn't matter because she fucking hated him for it. For making her feel that way. For making her feel  _all_  of it. For treating her the same way he always did. For using those eyes to see right through her without even realizing it. For  _caring_  too much to go through with it.

_She hated him..._

For wanting  _her_.

But more than anything, she hated herself.

She hated herself for letting it get to that point. For not noticing all those years ago. For encouraging it. For not doing something about it sooner. For letting him get under her skin.

For letting herself remember what it felt like to be wanted by someone.

For wanting him to stay. To never stop looking at her like that.

For wanting  _him_...

To kiss her again. To soothe the anger...the aged resentment...away with his lips and give her that warmth back. To hold her.

To  _need_  her...

The same way she needed  _him_ , more in that moment than she ever needed anything else.

In a way that scared the shit out of her.

_It still didn't matter..._

Her mouth was dry as she swept her tongue along the back of her lips, voice cracking as she finally allowed herself to answer his question.

"I want you to leave."

She could feel his other hand on her cheek.

"Leah..."

It was the last fucking time. It was all it took for the red inside her to explode, her muscles screaming. Everything coming to a head as it left her trembling frame in an anguished cry.

"Get the fuck out!"

Hands planted firmly on his chest, she pushed him away with all the strength she could muster. A frustrated growl masking a buried sob as both ripped unforgivingly from her chest.

Embry stumbled back but caught himself quickly, his eyes never leaving hers. His jaw tightened as he took a deep breath. As he stood his ground, wild, feral eyes bearing down on him from mere feet away. As her bones and skin shuddered and burned and ached, her own frenzied determination denying every instinct her body carried.

Refusing her any solace as she silently let herself fall apart from the inside out.

Instead, she clawed at her trembling skin, sliding from the island. Landing on unsteady feet, she wished wildly for the numbness that normally came after.

It never did.

Tearing her eyes from Embry, she could still feel  _everything_.

But most of all, how the moment she pushed him away she wanted nothing more than to pull him back.

_Fuck, she couldn't do this..._

She was so sick. So tired...of it all.

She held her breath as she bent to the floor, grasping her shirt between quavering fingers. Slipping it over her frame as she took a step back, collapsing against the island. Her insides still screaming, but every part of her exhausted.

Every part of her tired of fighting a past she could never seem to outrun.

Maybe if she just stopped...

_Maybe if she just stopped running..._

She could, but it wouldn't matter because there was nothing to stop for when everyone who mattered – everyone who cared – had already ran from her.

And it was her own fault. For running away first. For pushing away the only people who still cared.

It wouldn't matter. Not anymore.

"Get out," she repeated, the words barely audible above the pounding in her ears. Her hands still shook as she brought both to her forehead, refusing to look at Embry. Refusing to see what this was doing to him, because it didn't matter.

" _Please."_

After her final word died in the space between them, she heard him take a step back.

Listening to her...

Which meant regardless of how she had done it, it was still  _done_. It was over. He had seen it – just how broken she was. How bad it could have been had he tried to stick around. Had he tried to save her.

Because he had finally seen just how  _fucked up_  she was.

And she hated herself even more...

For destroying what little faith he had left in her.

Which made her unprepared for what he would say. Unprepared for his words or what they would do once they crossed the air separating them, almost like he had pulled them directly from her mottled brain.

Words that almost made her unravel completely.

"You can't keep doing this, Leah," he said, and she could feel his presence lingering at the corner of the entryway. "Open your eyes... You can't keep running from everything you left behind...look what it's doing to you."

Even as she turned her head, her face crumpling as she let a silent cry escape her lips, she didn't open her eyes. She didn't look.

He left anyway.

Leah could still hear his footsteps long after they disappeared. Long after the door closed behind him. Long after she heard the elevator come and go.

And she could still hear his words as everything inside her...everything she had spent six years running from...pulled her down. Bringing her to her knees in her silent, empty kitchen, her hands still clinging to the surface of the island as her legs pressed roughly against the cold, hardwood floor.

Her head lowered and she tried to breathe, mouth open, struggling to find whatever air it could.

Reminding herself over and over that it was done.

Embry was gone.

_It was done._

He deserved better.

Better than her.

And after everything she had done, she didn't deserve him.

Even though in that moment, as she closed her eyes, there was nothing else inside her. Nothing but a single thought.

That no matter what she told herself – even though it was too late – the only thing she wanted was for him to walk back through that door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dizzy yet? If so, that's good...cuz that was totally what I was going for. ;)
> 
> Huge shoutout to all who left notes on the last chapter! Again, I suck...but I read them all and just wanted to say thank you!
> 
> Anyway, thoughts on this chapter?


	8. Worth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all. Just a little timeline reminder here before heading into the chapter. Don't forget - in this, Leah phased BEFORE Sam imprinted and Emily came into the picture. This chapter starts off exploring one particular instant during that time, a time when Leah was herself, when the circumstances surrounding the "before" days she spent with the pack – when she was finding her place – were completely different than what you'd read in a canon fic. Hope you enjoy! :)

_**Suggested Listening: "Medicine" by Daughter, "Nobody Told Me" by Barzin, "Your Ghost" by Greg Laswell, "Slowly Freaking Out" by Skylar Grey** _

.

_**Seven Years Earlier** _

_With a frustrated cry that reached the tops of the forest trees, Embry released an uncharacteristic fury, adrenaline ripping through every protesting muscle in his body as he threw his fist forward._

_Releasing a violent shudder, he ignored the searing pain that shot up his arm when it connected with the bark of the weathered conifer in front of him._

_Embry's breath caught in his throat, watching as shards of wood flew in what seemed like a hundred different directions._

_He tried to swallow back the burning, ignoring the bleeding scrapes on his knuckles, knowing the wounds would be gone before he could give them another thought._

_Trying to ignore how it hadn't made him feel much better._

_Pushing his battered hand through his hair, Embry fisted the strands and tugged uselessly, hoping maybe a different kind of pain would get rid of the resentment crawling just beneath his skin._

_It didn't._

_It also wasn't enough to dull his senses, only taking a moment for him to register the scent behind him. A subtle but exhilarant mix of jasmine and sandalwood._

_A scent that no one else in La Push had..._

" _Go easy on the tree, Call. What did it ever do to you?"_

_Swallowing, he tried to soften his features a little before he turned to face her. To push down the heavy, clawing anger sitting smack in the middle of his chest. The one still making it harder than hell to breathe._

" _What are you doing here?"_

_That time, he felt his feet move. That time, he looked._

_Leah was perched on the top of a large tree root, peering down at him skeptically. With a heavy breath she let her fingers trace over the moss weaving its way up the tree trunk, dropping her gaze from his as she stepped down, moving toward him._

" _Umm...patrol? Or did you forget you're stuck with me this week?"_

_Embry held what little breath his lungs contained, and he could feel the tightness dissolve just slightly. It didn't, however, do much for the pounding in his head. The thoughts he always tried to push to the back of his mind – to ignore, because thinking them never did any good._

" _I didn't forget," he admitted, swallowing hard as Leah looked up. She caught his eyes again, her face a mixture of detachment and a muted concern._

_He stood there, watching her with parted lips, suddenly feeling stupid as she hitched her thumbs in the pockets of ratty cut-off shorts._

" _So you want to talk about it?" she asked knowingly, brows high as she let her eyes flick to the damaged tree._

_Gritting his teeth together, Embry tore his gaze away, focusing on his shoes instead. Making it a point to keep his eyes there when he stooped, fingers still shaking as he undid the laces._

" _Not really," he grumbled, straightening as he lifted his leg, pulling off one shoe. Repeating the action with the other. "We should just get this shift over with..."_

_Leah sighed, yet she didn't move a muscle as Embry's bare feet pressed into the damp leaves, mud seeping between his toes._

" _Well, the way I see it is you can tell me now or I can see it in your head later," she pressed on matter-of-factly. "Your choice. Either way, there's a reason you're putting your fist through full grown trees and walking around like that's perfectly normal."_

_He tried to keep it from showing on his face – a worn-down exhaustion from a battle he continued to fight, one that had nothing to do with her. One that had nothing to do with the others._

_It was his burden to bear. The memories of it – tearful pleas, accusations that hit him in the worst places – floating effortlessly to the front of his mind. Reminding him why..._

_Suddenly making him painfully aware of the throbbing in his knuckles._

_It had been his choice not to tell his mother about the pack's secret – to tell her the story, the legends, and explain to her the role he played. To tell her what he could turn into, thanks to a father he would never know and one she would never reveal. A part of him had wanted to, just to have_ someone _to tell, but his mother was from a different tribe. She was an "outsider", as Sam once said, and protecting the pack's secret was important._

_So Embry made the choice to not tell her, one he made for the same reason. A good reason._

_At least it had been at the time._

_Even if it was getting harder and harder to remember why, because ever since, he had spent almost every damn day dealing with the consequences of that choice._

_It was becoming too much._

_But it wasn't Leah's problem._

_Still, the helplessness he felt buried just behind that dull, insistent ache in his chest wanted a voice. He could feel the words rising in his throat the longer Leah stared at him, her head cocked slightly. Almost like she was waiting for him to speak._

_It wasn't her problem, but he wanted to tell her. He wanted her to be that person he could talk to._

_Even if there wasn't a single thing she could do about it._

" _It's my mom..."_

_If his barely-audible confession registered somewhere inside Leah, she kept a handle on it, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth holding his gaze with her steely brown eyes. "She giving you shit again?"_

_Embry could feel the clenching in his chest as he nodded, his blood suddenly burning. "Mostly, it's the same stuff...doesn't believe me when I tell her there's nothing to worry about. She's so fucking determined that there's more to it. That I stay out all night because I'm on drugs or something stupid like that, and it's always the same thing...because I don't listen to her when she grounds me, I don't respect her...all that."_

_He swore he could hear Leah swallow, despite the several feet that separated them. Still, he didn't wait for her to respond, the words surfacing with a startling insistence. Wanting out._

" _But last night, after I got in from patrol, she just went...crazy. Screaming at me, crying...rambling on about losing me too," Embry pushed on, the words coming faster than he wanted. Noticing how with each one he spoke, a tiny amount of pressure lifted from his insides. "Telling me I was the one person in her life she never thought would disappoint her..."_

_He looked up in time to see Leah's pursed lips part, her brow pulling low between both eyes. "And you believe her, don't you?"_

_Embry couldn't contain the agitated groan that left his throat. "I don't..._ want _to believe her, but fuck, Leah...a person can only be kicked so many times for the same thing before they start believing the reasons why..."_

_His words trailed off, and the silence hung thick between them. Embry's ragged, heavy breaths the only sound piercing through it._

_After awhile, he couldn't help it. He brought his eyes up, finding Leah's. Searching through those dark irises for any indication that she understood what he was talking about._

_She blinked, shutting him out for a split second. Long enough to speak._

_Not giving him enough._

" _It'll be okay."_

_Lips parting, the air left Embry's chest. "How do you know?" he asked, selfishly wanting more. Words of reassurance. An explanation of what she meant by such simple words._

Anything.

_Leah shrugged lightly, fingers curled into her pockets. "I just...do."_

_The answer didn't make the emptiness go away, nor the hollowing anger inside him._

_He'd wanted more – and it made him angry that she wouldn't give it._

_And he hated it._

_He hated how all the bullshit with his mother was making him feel. Bitter. Resentful. How despite only being sixteen years old, he was mourning the loss of a life that wasn't that great to begin with. He was never the kind of person who felt sorry for himself, but in the weeks leading up to that moment – even though most of it was done silently – it seemed to be all he knew how to do. The battles with the only person he could call family – someone who didn't understand and refused to trust him in addition to it – wearing him down to nothing._

_Making him question what life had given him._

_Making him question his role in it._

_No one understood. They tried, but it was impossible. Everyone else knew why. Everyone else knew_ how _. Everyone else had families that embraced it, celebrated it. Everyone else had families that knew it all._

_And Embry knew Leah. He knew she wasn't very good at talking. At communicating and getting things to come out the way she intended._

_It didn't matter though, and it killed him because deep down, he had desperately wanted Leah to understand._

" _Nevermind," he whispered, unable to stop his feet as they moved. Turning his back on her. Taking a couple steps, hands moving to the button of his shorts. Preparing to phase without her. To leave her behind._

" _Embry!"_

_The sound of his name falling from her lips made his footsteps fall short, his muscles arguing with a desire to leave. Refusing to let him move._

" _Don't walk away from me..."_

_Closing his eyes, her words pulled at something inside him, twisting his stomach in knots. Sucking a slow, deep breath into his lungs, he held it there before letting it out in a silent rush. Before picking up his feet and turning, his eyes meeting hers._

_The insistence on her expression caused his body to freeze in a different way. A concern she saved for very few. For her mother. For Seth. For Sam._

_And in that moment, for him._

" _I wasn't finished," she murmured, her expression assertive. Her eyes were wide with determination, but her features were set with an understanding that held him captive. "Listen, I know this sucks...I do. None of us asked for this. None of us wanted this life for ourselves, but you know as well as I do that life doesn't give a shit about what we want. It didn't give a shit when your dad decided not to man up and when mine decided to die..."_

_That time, she took a step forward, the sound of the brush beneath her feet loud in Embry's ears. Her eyes never left his, a strength he could only wish for resonating from them. One she shouldn't have but one she did anyway. It was indistinct, usually disguised by flecks of gold in those dark brown eyes, but in moments like the one they were in – moments where she wanted everyone to know she meant what she was saying – they screamed with sincerity._

" _Things might not be the best right now, Embry...but this is what we do," Leah continued, letting her hands fall to her sides. "And it might feel like you're alone right now and fighting some kind of losing battle, but you're not. That's kind of the purpose of having a pack, you know? We can't do this without each other, and we're not supposed to...even if it's hard to let it be that way, and even if we drive each other fucking insane sometimes."_

_Embry could feel the grin pulling at his lips, fingers curling distractedly around his biceps as he let his gaze rise to the lush canopy covering them. Before letting it drop to once again meet Leah's._

_Something in her words making sense. Giving him that reassurance he craved._

_Reminding him there was a purpose – that he had a purpose – and even though it was hard to see at times, there were others waiting to remind him who he was._

_And that he wasn't_ supposed _to be doing it on his own._

" _Did Sam tell you to tell me that?" he murmured tentatively._

_Chuckling, Leah crossed her arms in front of her chest instead. "No," she admitted, taking another step forward, peering up at him and giving him a friendly nudge with her shoulder. "But I think you've got that part figured out already...don't think I've forgotten about the night I first decided to join this little freak show."_

_It was Embry's turn to laugh, the frustration finally dissipating in his chest. Lifting a weight from his body._

" _Your mom will understand someday, you'll see," she said from behind him, her voice fading as she pushed farther into the forest. As he closed his eyes..._

" _But until then, just know what we're doing...you're meant to. And the people who matter get it. If she tosses you out on your ass, so be it...because we're still here and we'll pick you back up if she does. We'll remind you why it was worth it..."_

.

Embry's fingers wrapped tightly around the small glass sitting on the counter in front of him. Releasing a destitute breath, he brought it to his lips, letting the flaming liquid fill his mouth before swallowing it. Letting it burn for a split second as the alcohol spread through his stomach.

It was a fire that disappeared much too soon.

One that felt similar to the night before...

It was safe to say he lost himself somewhere. Between a few gazes that lasted too long. An unexpected brush of her fingers on his. The way her body moved beneath low lights, her eyes found him in the crowd. Calling to him.

Almost like she was saying it was all for him and he'd be stupid to feel otherwise.

Holding him in place. Calling him  _back_.

The same way they always did.

But somehow, he'd seen what he wanted to see. He let himself be pulled under. He let himself give in to Leah.

To the absence of her.

He allowed himself to hang on, trying to keep her there. Trying to keep her with him in a way that did neither of them any good...at least not at that point.

Yet in a way he never knew he wanted as much as he did.

And he'd gotten lost...

In a way he wasn't sure he wanted to be saved.

He let himself  _burn_...in an entirely different way.

And it felt  _right_.

The way that fire filled an emptiness within. One that had been there since the day she left.

The way, for a split second, Embry Call had felt complete.

He'd always been drawn to Leah. He'd always  _noticed_  her, but never the way he had the night before. It wasn't anything as profound or consuming as an imprint – he knew what that felt like through Sam, Jared and the others.

But it was irrefutable...how it had felt to  _him_.

Like her soul – every part of it, animal and woman – had reached out to him.  _Needed_  him. How he responded with an anticipation he hadn't counted on. One he wasn't able to resist. Not when so much time had passed. Not when he'd always wondered what it would feel like.

How those same parts of him had needed her just as much.

And the way his mouth felt on hers –  _better_  than it had the first time. The feel of her flesh beneath his hands. Her scent...so potent, so intoxicating he couldn't think straight. What it did to  _his_  body.

It soothed those same parts. It soothed the beast inside him in a way he never expected, almost like it had finally found a part of him he was missing.

_It felt right..._

Up until it wasn't.

Up until the  _man_  inside him realized it wasn't the same for her. That maybe it  _had_  been but she just wanted him to think something else.

Regardless, he didn't know...and he suddenly found himself wanting to stop. He couldn't explain why he didn't want to go through with it, fighting every primal instinct inside him because after everything that happened – after everything she inadvertently let him see – he still felt she deserved better.

That  _they_  deserved better than some quick fuck on her kitchen counter.

He wanted it to be more than that.

The second his feet hit the concrete outside Leah's apartment, he walked until he lost track of time, letting a rush of grateful air escape his lungs when he finally saw a taxi. When it pulled to a stop at the curb, he fell into the backseat, still reeling, telling the driver to take him as far outside of the city as he possibly could.

The driver didn't understand, but shrugged anyway, turning and pulling onto the street.

Embry sat there, unable to move, watching the bright red numbers tick on the meter. Not caring this trip was going to cost him a small fortune.

The taxi driver stopped somewhere off the interstate outside of the city – past all the suburbs – and Embry had no idea where he was. Stumbling from the vehicle, he was thankful for only a few things.

Fields.

 _Empty_  fields.

The absence of city lights.

No one around to see.

Embry barely waited until the taxi's red taillights disappeared before he turned, pushing between stalks of corn. Ignoring how foreign it felt against his skin as his fingers moved desperately, ripping his shirt from his body. Everything else following, carelessly left behind him before he crouched low to the ground, his body unfurling as bones and muscles shifted. As they realigned. Elongating before he landed back on the soft dirt, a deafening growl ripping from canine lungs and four legs already running for everything he was worth.

It was like scratching an itch he hadn't been able to reach. For almost a week, the city hadn't allowed him this. It made it impossible, and in that moment – where so many things were threatening to consume him from the inside out – he  _needed_  it. More than anything else.

It was a part of who he was. Something he couldn't deny and never had.

At least not after that moment. The one seven years ago where he so desperately needed someone to understand. When he was in the middle of questioning everything he stood for.

Not after her words. Ones that somehow had managed to elude him until that moment.

Ones he hated himself for not remembering sooner. For not seeing the significance.

He couldn't get it out of his head. All of it – the feel of Leah's fingers digging into his arms, her eyes pleading. A voice that reminded him too much of the one he heard in his head years earlier...the first night she phased and asked him to stay without speaking the word.

" _Please..."_

A voice that reminded him too much of his  _own_ , back when he was sixteen and confused and angry and in danger of losing himself completely.

When all he'd needed was someone to understand.

And he  _did_  understand, but she wouldn't let him show it. She kept pushing him away, refusing to give him a choice...

_No..._

He had a choice.

The way her shoulders heaved, the way her chest fought to catch her breath, her entire body trembling viscerally beneath what he could only assume was an urge to phase. An urge she did nothing but fight, a family she continued to run from...an instinct she had spent six years separated from, and one she still couldn't ignore. One she still couldn't get a handle on...

The way her face echoed it all when she finally turned away.

He remembered it – and it killed him, because it was then he knew – even if it took him entirely too long to figure it out.

She was alone. She had  _been_  alone the entire time. She could tell him everything she wanted to about having friends and creating some big new life for herself, but Embry had seen it. He had  _felt_  it when a dull pain shot up both arms, caused by the way her fingernails pressed into his flesh.

 _Not_  in a way that was a side effect of the heat they were both lost in...

In a subconscious attempt to keep him there. To keep him from walking away.

_We can't do this without each other, and we're not supposed to..._

He remembered her words, and he'd seen how he failed her.

The night he left her in her kitchen. When he let her leave in the bar. When she got into that taxi outside the restaurant and drove away.

When she stood in front of him, broken, vulnerable, and alone...

He'd still failed her...just like the rest of them.

Just like Sam.

The taxi had waited for him at the rest stop like he'd asked the driver to. Embry's skin had finally stopped crawling, his body only somewhat satiated by the run, but his head was still a mess. Once he was back in his hotel room, more than a hundred dollars poorer, he collapsed on his bed. He collapsed, but he didn't sleep. He drowned in the silence, running it all through a loop in his head.

Trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do to fix it.

It was mid-afternoon by the time he ventured out into the scorching summer daylight. He walked that time, feet despondently pressing against pavement as he made his way to God knows where, but not surprised when they eventually took him to a vaguely familiar place miles away.

A bar occupying a busy street corner in a neighborhood he already knew was hers.

The same one he'd went to the week before – a tip from the girl at the front desk.

Where he'd seen Leah for the first time in years.

And it made sense why he ended up there. A futile hope that maybe when he walked in, she'd be there too.

She wasn't, but Embry allowed himself to stay anyway, sliding into a seat at the almost-empty counter and ordering a glass of nothing but whiskey. Something he couldn't stand the taste of but needed anyway.

"Need another?"

Looking up, Embry's gaze fell on the man behind the bar, who was wiping his hands on a towel and peering at him expectantly.

Taking a deep breath, Embry have him a half-hearted nod. "Sure."

The man moved to the well where he'd placed the bottle containing the same liquor Embry had just consumed. As he grabbed a fresh glass, filling it with ice, he looked back to Embry while he poured. "You from around here?"

Leaning his forearms against the bar, Embry stared at his empty glass. "Nope," he replied curtly. "Just in town on business."

"Awesome, man," the bartender quipped, setting the bottle back on the bar. Grabbing the full drink, he took the steps needed to reach Embry, sliding it across the counter until it met his eager fingers.

"I'm Kyle..."

Looking up, Embry nodded as he let his hand lift, firmly grasping the other man's as he shook it. "Embry."

Taking a step back, Kyle crossed his arms in front of his chest, leaning against the counter behind the bar. "I've seen you in here before though."

Swirling the alcohol in his glass, Embry let his head bob, watching the man with resignation. "Maybe...I was in here last Friday."

"I remember," Kyle replied. "You were with Leah, right?"

Embry's stomach wrenched, lips parting slightly at Kyle's recollection. "You know her?"

A small smile pulled at Kyle's lips. "Yeah, I know her..."

Embry wasn't sure what kind of look was on his face, but whatever it was, Kyle let a chuckle escape his throat. "Not like that, man. Don't want you to think anything is going on if you two are...you know..." His words halted, the smile drooping slightly on his mouth as he searched for his next ones.

It was Embry's turn to release an ironic laugh, shaking his head before taking a drink from his glass. "It's not like that. I've known her forever, but...we pretty much grew up together."

"Huh..." By that point, Kyle had let his gaze travel up, his mouth opening and closing, almost like he was trying to decide whether or not he should ask whatever question was on his mind.

He did anyway.

"So what's her story?"

Frowning, Embry turned the glass between his thumb and fingers. "What do you mean?"

Kyle sighed. "Well, she's been coming here for...a long time. I'd say we're friends, but I'm not even sure I could call it that. But she's here a lot and I pay attention, and there's just something...different about her."

Swallowing thickly, Kyle's assessment of Leah didn't surprise him in the least. No matter what had happened, he'd seen it too, especially in the past week. Despite what she was going through, and despite what she allowed herself to think, she still had something that surrounded her. A presence that commanded attention.

He asked anyway, wanting to hear it from this guy. Wanting the insight of someone who'd  _only_  known a version of Leah that Embry couldn't quite wrap his head around.

"What do you mean by different?"

Kyle shrugged. "Well, I stopped trying to get to know her a long time ago. She never wants to talk, but...I still kind of look out for her when she's here. She always comes in alone, but rarely ever  _leaves_  alone..."

The words settled like a fucking rock in Embry's stomach, his mind automatically drifting back to the night before. To hot breath on his ear and a command whispered unforgivingly against his skin.

_Just fuck me..._

They still burned on the edges of his mind.

"But she ran into you and didn't leave with you, so I guess that's why I remember you..." Kyle continued, pushing himself off the bar. "I don't know...I guess I just worry about her. She'll come in and she just...sits here. By herself. Doesn't talk to anyone until she finds whatever it is she's looking for."

Embry swallowed thickly, already knowing the answer to the question he was going to ask. "Which is...?"

Kyle shrugged, leaning over and pulling a couple six-packs out of the back cooler. "Depends on the day."

Grimacing, Embry couldn't help it when he shook his head, his fingers curling around his glass. "She's not like that, man," he murmured insistently, trying to keep away the protective anger already seeping into his voice.

Kyle threw his hands up, taking a step back at whatever look it was Embry was giving him. "Hey, that's not what I'm saying," he replied quickly. "No judgment here. She's nice to me and she tips well, and that's all my job allows me to care about." Lowering his hands, he took a step forward, watching Embry cautiously.

Looking down, Embry realized his own hands were trembling. The blood in them simmering beneath his skin.

"So what are you saying then?"

"Hell, man, I don't know...just making conversation," he said quietly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I guess I was just kind of hoping you were an actual  _friend_  of hers. It's just...she used to talk, back in the day. Before it got bad, and I know she doesn't have anybody...and I know she's better than the guys she finds in this place. And I know why she does the things she does...loneliness is a pretty easy thing to spot when you've been doing this as long as I have."

Taking a deep breath, Embry closed his eyes, that last piece of a puzzle he'd been trying to figure out all day – all  _week_  – finally falling into place. Kyle's words – a confirmation of something Embry pretty much knew all along – only solidifying that knowledge.

But it wasn't that. It wasn't the other men. It wasn't the fact she had turned to sex to substitute the real, tangible presence of others in her life, even if he hated that's what it had come to.

_It wasn't that..._

It was how she must have been feeling inside – how fucking lonely she was, the pain and regret she  _still_  hung onto, and how little she thought of herself – to think  _that_  was how much she was worth.

And that killed him more than anything else.

"She's not alone."

Embry meant it, and it hadn't taken Kyle to help him see it.

It was something he'd been trying to show her since his eyes fell on her just inches away from where he sat.

_Don't walk away from me, Embry..._

But he'd failed at that too.

Just like all the guys she had picked up in a bar that no longer felt comforting to him. That no longer felt like a place he would come to find her.

He hadn't gone after her. He hadn't refused to move.

He'd given her exactly what she wanted.

Just like they had.

Every single time she asked him to he'd done it. He'd walked away, thinking there was nothing he could do to change her mind. Thinking that maybe she would come around eventually.

He was wrong. He knew that now.

And he knew what it was going to take. What he needed to do.

Because every single person in Leah's life had walked away from her when in reality, all she needed was someone to push her. To pull her back. Kicking and screaming, if they had to.

To be there.

To make her see, even if she didn't want to.

Because he knew that deep down, she did. That she knew what she wanted. What she needed.

That she'd asked him not to walk away –  _again_  – without speaking a single word.

That she was better than what she let herself believe.

That the woman who once held the person she used to be – that held what she  _was_  higher than everything else – still resided in there somewhere.

And it was his job, as a member of her pack, to help her remember where she belonged.

And it was his job – as a  _man_  – to make her see the woman she still was.

One he couldn't forget.

One he couldn't leave behind...not anymore.

Pushing the glass away, Embry leaned back in the barstool, reaching for his pocket. "How much do I owe you?"

Kyle shook his head. "It's on me, bro."

Managing a small smile, Embry pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. "Thanks, man."

"No problem." Kyle took another step forward, both eyebrows lifting. "You should come back later though. It's Thursday...the company here's usually better than me." As soon as his mouth closed, the corners of his lips pulled up in a small, knowing smile.

Nodding, Embry threw a five-dollar bill on the bar.

"I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

Autumn Gallagher really wished the phone would stop ringing.

It had been ringing all fucking day. Everyone wanting to talk to Leah, more so than a normal day.

And of course, she wasn't there.

Autumn wasn't sure what was going on. Leah never took sick days, and even though she had kept a watchful eye on the crowd at the concert the night before, she'd lost track of Leah early.

She wondered if something had happened. If they'd left.

Because that flawless example of a man she had with her would have been terribly hard to  _not_  spot in a crowd.

Chuckling to herself, Autumn rocked back in her chair. Taking a deep breath, she felt her cheeks blush like a damn teenager. Silently relishing the moment she saw the voicemail light blink on the phone.

It soothed her extremely annoyed ears and that small, throbbing headache she could feel starting just above her right eye.

But it didn't get rid of her worry.

Leah never took a sick day. Ever.

In fact, Autumn was pretty sure she wasn't even capable of  _getting_  sick.

But she'd seen her the night before, and something was definitely wrong. She was tense. Wound up. Something clearly eating away at her.

And Autumn worried.

She  _always_  worried when it came to Leah Clearwater.

Because for someone as beautiful and successful and tough as her boss, that sadness in her eyes just never seemed to go away. It didn't just sit there – it  _screamed_.

Until she looked at  _him_.

That tall drink of water who couldn't keep his eyes off Leah either.

And Autumn  _noticed_.

But she didn't notice the footsteps approaching her desk, the shadow fall over its surface, when that fucking phone started ringing again.

Groaning, her mind was jerked back to the present, her body doing the same as it sat upright in her chair, leaning forward. Reaching out for the receiver.

Finally noticing the person standing in front of her desk.

Her eyes raised slowly, lips parting. Fingers frozen, poised over the trilling phone.

Eyes raking unabashedly up a frame she'd like to reach out and touch just once...

But she didn't, the ringing phone long forgotten.

Instead, she opened her mouth further and let the words tumble out.

"Holy crap...it's you."

* * *

She wasn't sure what time it was.

She wasn't even sure how much time had  _passed_.

All Leah knew was there was a brilliant orange glow peeking through the drawn curtains of her bedroom window, indicative of a setting sun and marking the passing of another day. Fighting its way into the darkness of the place she'd been since the night before.

At least that's how long she  _thought_  it had been...

She had plenty of time to think. Plenty of time to bury herself beneath the covers on her bed. Plenty of time to lie awake and stare at the ceiling.

Plenty of time to bring up moments from a past she had spent six years trying to forget.

Searching...

For what she wasn't quite sure.

She searched anyway, trying to figure out where she went wrong. Trying to find a source to feelings she didn't want and didn't understand.

Stuck in some weird place she didn't recognize.

Embry hadn't come back. He'd done exactly what she wanted and hadn't come back.

And a part of her hated him more for that than anything else.

For the fact that she could still feel everything...

_Every fucking thing._

It hadn't gone away. The numbness that usually came after was nowhere to be found. Coupled with trembling fingers that she couldn't seem to get a handle on, it was almost like a dam somewhere had broken. Somewhere inside her, letting out everything she had forbid herself to feel for the better part of six years.

Forcing herself to see the person she used to be.

Forcing herself to see the person she had turned into. Someone she didn't recognize.

She saw it all. Everything, lined up in neat little rows, seeing everything she once possessed. Everything she lost. Everything she had tried to forget. Everything she hadn't allowed herself to feel.

Everything she had ran from, refusing to face. Refusing to overcome.

Everything she had allowed herself to believe. About her life. About herself.

And she remembered all the things she felt only hours earlier...before it all went wrong. Before she pushed Embry away. The way his lips felt on her skin, the way his hands moved across her body.

The way those eyes looked at her. The way they had  _always_  looked at her.

_A look that took her that long to notice..._

The way it made her feel...

He had done it.

 _Embry_  had done it.

And she wanted it. Still. More than anything.

_She wanted it forever..._

But it didn't matter. None of it did, because as every single thought cycled through her hazy mind, bringing everything to the surface, refusing to let her move, it only reinforced one thing.

That Leah knew better than anyone that forever didn't mean a thing.

_She needed to move..._

She would prove she didn't need it.

She would prove she didn't need  _him_.

She would prove to herself – and Embry, wherever he was – that she would be fine. That life would be fine just the way it was.

She would prove this panic rising in her gut – one she couldn't seem to shake at the thought of never seeing Embry again, at him going back to La Push and taking everything but the storm inside her with him – was a figment of her imagination and a product of fear.

Drawing in a deep breath, Leah sat up, surveying the room as her bare feet hit plush carpet. As she stood, turning and making her way to the bathroom, she had to remind herself to put one foot in front of the other.

She knew where she needed to be. What she needed to do.

Even if she couldn't ignore the small part of her still screaming – still aching – for what she knew she  _wouldn't_  find once she got there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...thoughts on this? Predictions on what's to come?
> 
> Can't wait to hear them! :)


	9. Proof

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Power through this one, guys. That's all I'm saying. ;)

_**Suggested Listening: "How" by The Neighbourhood, "Bird Sounds" by Circa Survive, "Flawless" by The Neighbourhood, "Virus" by Sarah Fimm, "Touch" by Daughter** _

Leah pressed her lips roughly against a closed fist, her leg bouncing anxiously beneath the counter. She silently begged it to stop, trying to ignore how it wouldn't comply. The fingers of her other hand curled around that same closed one, feeling her knuckles crack beneath it.

She opened her eyes, body stiff, allowing her gaze to scan where she was – taking in the familiar setting, the pounding music. The smell of sweat. The sea of faces. Some she recognized, and some that she knew had to have a story similar to her own. Others she didn't know.

But she ignored it. She ignored the eyes she could feel watching her. She ignored the sounds, the scents, everything that wanted to assault her senses.

All things she used to find comfort in.

She ignored them, because it wasn't happening. Not that time.

It all grated her nerves, making her uneasy, body burning with the need to fidget. With a desire to move, to release the pent-up energy causing her blood to simmer.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed it all down, swallowing back the anxiety gathering in the form of a thick knot in her throat.

She was doing this differently. She wasn't in the mood for games. For any of it.

_Prove it to him..._

_Prove it to yourself._

Leah's eyes fell on her cell phone sitting inches away, screen-up on the bar. Wishing it would light up despite the fact she had no fucking clue what she would want when it did.

She recognized Kyle's hand in her peripheral vision, reaching for a bottle beneath the counter. Looking up, she disregarded the intense stare he had focused on her. One that wasn't new but one she definitely didn't have time for.

And a little part of her wanted to laugh at him, the same part that forced her lips to curl into an ironic smile against her knuckles, her head shaking slightly.

_Look at what it's doing to you..._

She didn't need his judgment because buried not so deep inside her was plenty of it to go around. Judgment for what she'd done, judgment for what she was  _going_  to do – it didn't matter. It was still there, overtaking her and scratching at a heart that never bothered to care before.

Or one that was too numb – too  _blind_  – to recognize it to begin with.

But it fucking didn't matter. It didn't matter because he was gone.

Embry was gone.

And there was no one left to remind her...

No one but herself.

Opening her eyes, she could sense a presence encroaching the narrow space between her and the person on the next barstool. She blinked and Kyle was gone, her gaze focusing instead on the shelves behind the bar. She didn't have to look to feel the body next to her – to smell his scent, a pungent mix of peppermint and a perfectly aged brandy – before she saw the person it was.

Lips parting, she took a breath. Heart stuttering in her chest, her stomach dropped to her knees.

She'd heard about this thing people called rock bottom, but somehow, she'd always convinced herself she would never reach that point. That it would always elude her. That she was always one step away from the edge that led straight to it.

She was wrong.

And until that moment, Leah hadn't really realized what a horrible liar she was in addition to everything else.

Because she was pretty sure the person next to her was  _exactly_  what rock bottom felt like.

The smile she forced across her lips was almost painful, the trembling beneath her skin feeling like thousands of live wires. Adding to it all. Two voices warring for dominance in the mess inside her head.

Her voice...

_Prove it._

And his...

_You can't keep running._

Knowing what it meant but not ready for it.

_She wasn't ready for any of it..._

Moving anyway, she turned her gaze toward the source of the aroma burning her sensitive nostrils, letting her eyes rake up a frame she knew. When her eyes landed on his expression, a trademark smirk flirting on his lips, she remembered how that same look used to make her insides twist in a way she hated.

But in that moment, she didn't feel a fucking thing.

"It's about time, Princess."

She couldn't help the irritated scoff that escaped her lips, one she hid behind a smug smile as she ripped her eyes from his. Focusing instead on the line of top-shelf liquors several feet away.

"Shut the fuck up, Tony."

He released a chuckle from his mouth, one that settled like a lead weight inside her. Swallowing, she tried to push it down – the knowledge that no matter what, what was about to happen was different. That it was a length to which she'd never gone before. That there could be consequences. If the wrong person saw, if the wrong person caught wind of it...

_Prove it..._

"What do you say we get out of here?"

Tony's voice brought her back, but only enough to hear his words.

A shudder ripped up her spine the moment the request left his mouth. Lips parting, nothing came out when she tipped her head back, catching those icy blue eyes with hers. Her body froze when he reached up, that fucking smirk still there as he used the backs of his fingers to trace an excruciating line down the length of her jaw.

_The way those fingers felt..._

They were too cold. She'd always noticed it before in the others, but suddenly, she couldn't ignore the screaming in the back of her head. One telling her that wasn't the way it was supposed to be.

That it wasn't what she needed...

Leaning back, she broke the contact between their skin, banishing the voices the moment she did. She inadvertently caught Kyle's eyes watching her again, and she ignored how they pulled away, his gaze flitting toward the door for a brief moment.

Reaching out, Leah gripped the glass of liquor on the bar between shaky fingers, bringing it to her lips. She swallowed its contents without a second thought.

Trying like hell to hang on to the fire it created as it wound its way through her insides.

Knowing she would need it then more than ever.

"I have a better idea."

* * *

It was too familiar. She'd been there before.

Leah held her breath, letting the weight of Tony's body pin her to the door of the bathroom stall. His hands were rough – impatient – mapping paths across her midsection. His mouth finding a home on the slant of her neck, his tongue peeking out as it tasted her.

Closing her eyes, Leah tried to ignore everything inside her fighting it. How her body didn't want to respond. How she had to force her hands to lift, to push through his short hair. How she had to remember to make a sound when his teeth dragged across her flesh. To pretend like she meant it as her fingers curled around the back of his head, guiding his lips to hers.

She tried to concentrate – to drink it all in, his scent invading her nostrils. Feeling the coolness of his palm when it wrapped around her thigh, it steadied her as he guided it to his hip, the burning taste of brandy on his breath.

Everything happening through glassy eyes that couldn't seem to focus.

But it didn't matter, because Leah just wanted it to be over.

_She just wanted it to be done..._

Leaning back, she opened her eyes, refusing to look Tony in his. Refusing to look at his face when she pushed him back, her hands lowering, seeking out the button on his pants. Impatient, heavy fingers fumbled, taking longer than normal to free it.

She could feel a burning though – a different kind. An  _urgency_  as it rushed through her veins, an anxious frustration, reminding her to hurry. Telling her to get it over with. The sooner it was done, the sooner she would prove to herself...

Prove _what?_

The burning was changing, growing into a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach. It caused her body to tremble unforgivingly, clouding every moment that led up to the one she was in. She couldn't remember a fucking thing. Holding her breath, Leah lost focus on her hands, letting them rise instead. Letting her fingers curl around Tony's shirt, pulling him back. Covering his mouth with hers...

Trying to ignore the knot as it worked its way up the back of her throat, choking her. Trying to ignore the stinging in the corners of her eyes.

Trying to make herself remember why she was there...

Trying to make it matter... _somewhere_.

But she was slipping – falling from that same edge she'd thought about earlier, watching as the bottom of a pit that had always seemed endless rushed up to greet her. Seeing it all as it opened its arms for her, preparing to swallow her whole.

Her body went limp beneath Tony's hands.

Preparing to give up...

Unable to hear. Unable to  _feel_.

Except the sound of a door opening. Of metal giving way against protesting hinges, the rush of air pushing into the suffocating space surrounding her.

_The warmth at her back..._

Suddenly, the room exploded around her, pulling her back so quickly she lost her breath.

Leah's eyes flew open, her body barely having time to register the feel of  _blazing_  fingers digging into her waist before her back collided with brick. Blinking frantically, she gasped, the air pushing roughly from her lungs.

Her eyes finally finding what she was looking for. Her head figuring out what was going on.

For a split second, her heart fucking stopped. Her mind was confused, but everything inside her lurched toward something else. Everything coming back.

Pulling her body straight, away from the wall.

Toward  _him_.

Her eyes opened wide, lips parting, the words coming from somewhere.

"Embry, what the fuck are you doing?"

He didn't hear her, the look on his face sending a searing shiver up Leah's spine. A feral, protective expression she'd never seen him wear before, his lips pulled back slightly into a snarl. Ebony eyes bore holes through Tony's blue ones, which were wide, all bravado from them gone as his hands reached up, trying to remove the ones curled around his shirt collar.

"Get the fuck out."

Non-negotiable. A command. Leah's heart pounded. She had no idea how he was there, standing in front of her. How he'd found her, the fact alone still enough to push through her a relief – a gratitude – she hadn't expected. One strong enough to take her breath away.

She wanted to move. She  _tried_  to move but she couldn't, her gaze locked unforgivingly on the person who had pulled her back.

The person who had  _come_  back.

Embry released Tony, pushing him toward the door. Tony recovered, but not before he gracelessly hit the wall just next to the exit. Once he'd taken a moment, both his pride and his ego more bruised than his body, Tony let a testing chuckle escape his throat, his gaze turning on Embry.

"Really, man?" Tony shook his head, the nonchalance – the arrogance of who he was – bleeding back into his expression. "Do you know who I am?"

"No...and I don't give a fuck," Embry countered, his hands curled into fists at his sides, muscles straining beneath flesh. "Get out."

Tony didn't move. Leah shuddered as he planted both feet firmly on the ground and Embry's fists clenched tighter beside him. She closed her eyes, searching for words, some instinct that had been ingrained in her wanting to tell Embry to leave and get out. To leave  _her_  alone and let her take care of it herself. To let her finish what she started.

But she couldn't do that either.

All she could do was watch, knowing what would happen the moment Tony tipped his head up, eyes narrowing in challenge. His ignorant stare fixed on the man in front of him.

"Who's going to make me?"

"Em –"

Leah wasn't sure how she found her voice, but it was too late. Before she could let the second syllable of his name fall from her tongue, Embry had crossed the distance separating him and Tony. She barely had time to take in how Tony's blue eyes widened as he drew closer.

Her gaze was too fixated on Embry, her own body unable to move as a depraved cry escaped his throat, one arm lifting. Pulling back. Moving forward without calculation, propelled by only a fraction of the force she knew he carried within.

Expecting it didn't matter. Leah still jumped, her frame shaking beneath the fury of his movements. A muted cry leaving her throat, one hand raised defensively the moment Embry's fist connected with the metal paper towel holder on the wall just inches to the left of Tony's head. The metal giving way – collapsing all the way to the wall – beneath the force of the blow.

Leah held the air in her lungs, Embry's labored breaths the only sound piercing the silence of the bathroom.

She didn't miss how Tony flinched, his face scrunching. Eyes closing, he pulled in a breath, his face relaxing again the moment he opened them. His expression once again steady. It didn't matter though because his eyes betrayed him, darting side to side like a caged animal looking for a way out. Wild with disbelief, trying to pull away from the trembling frame in front of him.

From where she stood, she swore she could hear the blood rushing through Embry's veins. Fueling him.

Refusing to relent.

Refusing to let him walk away.

"I'm not gonna ask you again."

Leah's mouth opened in a wordless reply the moment those indigo eyes shifted, landing on her. The moment Tony swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing beneath the movement.

"I'll wait for you in the car."

A part of Leah told herself to stop him, to keep him from moving, but as Tony gave Embry one last venomous glare, she didn't. As his eyes found her a final time before turning – before slipping out the bathroom door – she couldn't find it in herself to care.

The moment the door closed behind Tony – the second those endless eyes turned away from the door and refocused on her – Leah could feel everything. Figuring out the full weight of it and what it meant even if she had no idea how it happened. How  _any_  of it happened...

How he'd known. Why he'd come back.

Why she finally felt like she could breathe.

The question fell from her lips anyway.

"Why are you here, Embry?" Her voice was low, raspy. Thick with that same vulnerability she'd felt the night before, half-naked and trembling in front of him.

He took a deep breath, his jaw tight as he took a few steps forward, closing the gap between them. Cornering her. Leah moved away instinctively, her own breath hitching as her back hit the brick wall.

"Why are  _you_  here, Leah?" he countered, his eyes on fire with a sincerity she couldn't fathom.

But beneath the embers, she could see something else. A knowledge he already had. Answers he already knew, even though she didn't have the slightest clue how he'd figured it out. How he knew exactly where to find her. How he knew what she'd be doing.

Regardless, it grated at something inside her. That part of her that refused to be weak, no matter how much it killed her. That instinct she couldn't seem to shake. Archaic walls that had worn down beneath that gaze but hadn't decided to crumble completely.

It came from the last sliver of a stubborn heart that refused to give in.

Still, she had no answer for him, her lips parting as those eyes dug at her. Trying to see inside her and searching anyway.

Embry frowned, his forehead creasing vehemently as he leaned closer. His hands found her shoulders, fingers digging into her skin. "Is this how you forget, Leah?" he asked, throwing a glance over his shoulder toward the bathroom stall. "Is this what you think you need?"

Accusation or not, the tone of his voice fanned that same fire inside her. Whether he meant it or not, all she could hear was judgment laced within his words.

It was almost enough to mask the shudder that ripped through her, the heat of his palms soaking into her skin.

"Fuck you," she spat out, reaching up and roughly brushing his hands away. For a moment, her strength matched his, the absence of heat palpable the moment she did. "You don't know a god damn thing about me, Embry."

Leah tried to push him away, her palms bracing against his chest.

He moved too fast, catching her wrists between deft fingers, a vicious cry escaping her lips when he brought them up, pinning her arms to the wall behind her. Trapping her.

"Shut the fuck up and listen to me," he pressed on unforgivingly, his voice thick with a passionate determination. His face was inches from hers, his proximity causing her chest to heave with labored breaths as he forced her to stand there. To look into those eyes. To hear what he had to say.

"I know who you are, Leah," he continued, his voice low. Steady. His expression unfaltering. " _You_  don't...not anymore."

The words pricked at something inside her, stealing some of her resolve. Weakening her barriers just enough to cause the knot in her throat to reappear, threatening to cut off her airway completely.

Eyes closing – freeing one part of herself from his invisible hold – Leah felt her head rock back and forth, arms straining beneath his grasp. Begging to be released. Dropping slowly to her sides the moment he finally did.

"You  _don't_  know, Embry..." she whispered, her palms pressing roughly against the wall, steadying herself. The coolness of it extinguishing the fire within, replaced only by the heat in front of her. The one reaching out, trying desperately to get over the wall. To find that weakness in her it somehow created long before.

"I do," he said firmly, her eyes opening as he took her face between both large hands. Forcing her to look at him, the sounds from the bar just on the other side of the door faded the longer he held her gaze. Making sure what he said was the only thing she would hear. "I do... _you_  don't.  _They_  don't." For a split second, his eyes redirected to the spot Tony had stood moments earlier.

Taking a deep breath, she released it, held prisoner by those eyes. Knowing there was nothing she could do but listen.

She could feel it. Something deep inside her rising quickly – a part she had felt the night before. The one that reached out to him, silently begging him to stay. Crashing its way front and center, screaming with an urgency that left her breathless.

His fingers were searing against her skin, and she could feel herself start to tremble, still unable to look away from those eyes. The same ones that had always seen through all the bullshit. All the facades. Through all the fucking walls and armor.

_Just like they were doing in that moment..._

His breath pushed warmly across her lips when he spoke.

"A long time ago, you told me something..." His voice was soft. Determined. "You told me that no matter what someone made me think about myself – that no matter what  _I_ thought – it wouldn't matter...because there would always be others there waiting to remind me who I was." His fingers were softer on her face, keeping her in place. It wouldn't have made a difference anyway, because she couldn't move.

Even if she wanted to.

_She didn't want to..._

"That was before," she whimpered, her voice full of a sickening defeat. Her mind a sudden mess of a million thoughts. "That person...wouldn't have done what I did...she wouldn't..."

"It was an accident, Leah," Embry pushed the words out with conviction, his hands falling to her shoulders. "You have to stop punishing yourself for it."

"I'm  _not_..." she murmured, the words barely audible. Unbelievable.

"You are," Embry countered, his eyes widening earnestly. "And I don't blame you for running...I don't. I don't blame you for wanting to forget, for wanting to get away from it all...but you lost yourself somewhere along the way, and all it did was make you run faster."

Shaking her head, the burning in her eyes intensified, clouding her vision.

Knowing somewhere, there was truth in his words.

With a frustrated, anguished growl, she brought her hands up between Embry's arms, rubbing her face roughly with both palms. Letting them fall limply in front of her, she processed what Embry was saying – hearing every word – but unable to form any kind of response.

"We should have stopped you...one of us should have stopped this." His hands were on her arms now, lightly brushing against her flesh, leaving goose bumps in their wake. She could feel herself lean forward, away from the wall. Toward him. Her own hands lifting, curling despondently around his forearms.

"We all failed you, Leah," he whispered, his breath pushing through her hair. " _I_  failed you."

Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she inhaled deeply through her nose, pine and sea soaking slowly into her system.

"Embry..." she breathed, feeling his lips brush her forehead. "You need to wake up... You need to realize that not everyone can be saved."

As soon as the words left her mouth, his hands grasped her shoulders, once again pushing her back. The breath left her lungs and Leah peered up at him with wide eyes, watching as his features softened, a resolve spreading across his expression.

"Maybe not, but I can try.  _You_  can try," he persisted. "Just stop running. Stop running...and try."

"It's not that simple..." she said anyway.

"It  _is_  that simple," he interrupted. "Stop running...just for a fucking second. Stop running and just look around..." His hand was back on her face, the heat from it everywhere, evaporating the moisture on her skin. "...and see what's right in front of you."

Leah took a shaky breath, her mind still reeling. A part of her wondered how he made it seem so easy. How the idea, coming from his lips, didn't seem so impossible.

How even though she was selfish and broken, he  _knew it_. He had seen her at her worst, yet he was still there.

_He had still come back..._

"It's too late," she whispered anyway, although a bigger part of her – the largest part – wanted to believe something else. "This is who I am now, Embry. You don't want this. You don't want me."

He blinked knowingly, the corner of his mouth lifting into a small smile, stealing the breath from her chest.

She didn't respond.

She didn't have a chance.

Not before Embry moved, pushing her body against the wall. His mouth unforgivingly seeking out hers, sweeping away what words she had left.

Fingers curling around his arms, Leah responded with an urgency that left her breathless. She tasted the sweetness on his lips before the warmth of his presence infiltrated her senses all over again, winding its way deliriously through her veins. Taking everything else with it.

Helping her to feel everything.  _Again_.

Losing herself in it all – how fucking good it felt, how  _right_  it felt – the need in the way his mouth moved against hers enough to send her reeling.

Doing its best to convince her that maybe stopping – that maybe looking around – would be worth it.

Maybe  _he_  would be worth it.

Maybe  _she_  was...

But even then she fought herself, her heart pounding against the overwhelming power of what she felt. Forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut, pressing back against his shoulders. Leah pushed him away in one swift movement even as her trembling fingers absentmindedly moved to her tingling lips.

She opened her eyes to see Embry watching her insistently, eyes dark, mouth pressed into a thin line as his hands fell to her bare shoulders

"Is that what it feels like? When they kiss you?"

She couldn't respond, her lungs aching with a need for air. Her lips still burning from the warmth of his breath. She could feel the stinging in the corner of her eyes return, fingers curling unforgivingly into his arms. Holding on for dear life.

"It doesn't..." he whispered, answering his own question. Leaning in once again, his palm captured her cheek as he pressed his forehead against hers. "It doesn't because  _they_  don't want you, Leah. They don't give a shit about you. None of them do, and no matter what you think...I do. I always have. And that's why I came back... so you would see it."

Swallowing, Leah blinked rapidly, her head shaking beneath his persistence. Her mind spinning.

"I don't think I can..." she whispered, her voice cracking from the weight of it. Knowing  _exactly_  what it was he wanted her to see. "I don't think I know how to  _let_  you, Embry... not anymore."

Embry pulled back, just enough to look her deeply in the eyes, his features softening when she felt his fingers trace the line of her jaw.

"You don't have to," he murmured sincerely, the truth of it hanging tangibly from his words. "You told me once not to walk away from you...that's what I'm doing. I'm  _here_...telling you that I'm not gonna walk away. Not again. Not  _ever_...because I'm part of your pack, Leah, and we don't give up on pack, and I'm not gonna give up on you...because you're worth it. You're worth it to me, and I'll show you...I'll  _remind_  you, if you let me."

Taking a deep breath, she held it. Keeping the air inside her – keeping it  _all_  inside her. Embry's words – the delirious high he'd somehow created inside her, the undeniable conviction in his words – wrapping around her pounding heart. Replicating more feelings she hadn't felt in years. Safety. Need.

 _Worth_.

Feelings she'd felt more than ever since he walked back into her life.

_This is what you need._

_He knows who you are..._

But Leah let go, and it had nothing to do with her own stubborn resolve – with what she thought she needed.

She let go because  _he_  wasn't going to, even though a part of her didn't  _want_  him to. That same part that  _needed_  him, knowing he was right in front of her. That she could have it if she wanted.

And it scared the shit out of her because similar feelings had only led her to where she was...

At a point – one that felt entirely too much like a crossroads – where that fear was stronger than ever.

But so was the  _need_. To hang on to who he was.

To hang on to him. Telling her not to leave. Not that time.

_Not ever._

But she let go. In that moment – one where she could see there was a choice he was offering her, one he didn't have to speak – the same fear became more powerful, prying her fingers from him one by one. The tiny shred of resolve she had left in her rushing to her legs, knees bending as her back slid down the wall. As she ducked beneath his arm, freeing herself from his hold.

She stumbled, taking a step away. The moisture gathering frantically in the corners of her eyes when she saw the pained, desolate look in his eyes. His expression finally faltering, a desperation replacing the strength in it.

Like one step away had made him give up hope that he was ever going to get through to her.

_I can't..._

Leah could hear the words she wanted to say in her head. She could feel them, thick and heavy in her mouth, but when she opened her lips, they stayed where they were, nothing but silence escaping her body. Her eyes holding his as her back found the door, fingers curling around the handle.

_Stop running..._

He took a step toward her.

"I..." She pushed the word out, her voice cracking as it traveled the space between them. She shook her head, holding a hand in front of her, hoping like hell he would understand...why she was leaving.

Even if in that moment, she didn't understand it herself.

"Leah..."

Her breath caught in her throat, lips parting as she opened the door, letting in the onslaught of noises and smells from the bar outside. Choking her.

"I'm  _sorry_ ," she whispered.

She tore her eyes from his, causing a searing pain to rip through her insides the moment she stepped through the door, leaving him on the other side.

Weaving around bodies, her feet moved faster than she thought possible. Allowing her to escape, refusing to look back even though something inside her kept fucking pulling, urging her another direction. Demanding she turn around. Her mind disconnected from her body as she pushed through the crowd in the bar, working her way toward the door. Her eyes focused but not really seeing it.

Leaving Embry behind...

And not really knowing why. Despite her fears. Despite all the reasons she could probably come up with if she just had a moment to stop and think – to get her head on straight and remember why she lived her life the way she did in the first place. Why she'd set out to prove something to herself. Why she couldn't fucking remember what it was...

_So why was she still running?_

The warm air outside the bar slammed into her like a brick wall, filling her lungs. Allowing her to breathe but doing little to ease the war going on inside her. Her feet carried her toward the curb – to a sleek, black car containing a part of her she wasn't sure she wanted anymore.

Opening the door to the back seat, she slid into the silence of the vehicle, closing the door behind her. The stale air inside it clawed at her lungs.

"So..." She could hear Tony's voice beside her, a suggestive undertone to it, causing her blood to go cold. She could feel him lean closer, encroaching on a space that already felt suffocating. "How about we just pretend that didn't happen, huh? Pick up where we left off..."

Leah's lips parted.

She closed her eyes.

She could feel his breath against the curve of her neck, his mouth pressing a destitute kiss to her flesh.

And in that moment, it all came back.

Her  _head_  came back.

Separated from the noise and the smells and everything she had once counted on, it all pushed to the surface, brought forth by the feel of his mouth on her skin. Bearing down on her with a jarring clarity, just like it had earlier that night. Before the bar. Before Tony.

Before  _Embry_  had come back.

_Before his words rooted somewhere inside her..._

Each one of them making perfect sense of her imperfect life.

Leah could see it all, playing out like a bad movie behind her eyelids. Every night she spent in that fucking bar. Every guy she'd taken while there. Every guy she'd taken  _with_  her when she left. How she challenged them to scale impenetrable walls  _she_  built to protect herself, knowing they would always fail – at reaching the top. At making her forget. At making her feel something. At allowing her to hurt them.

At hurting  _her_...

But Leah could also see that, little by little, they had done exactly that.

She could  _feel_  it – the proof in how Tony's hands moved on her body in that moment, his mouth on her flesh. Uncaring. Unfeeling.  _Cold_.

And it had always been that way. So subtle that over time, it was barely perceptible.

But now, she had something to compare it to.

And it hurt. It hurt like hell, and she could see where they all succeeded. How when it was over, they all walked away, just like she wanted. Just after she walked away from them.

How every time she did, she left a little piece of what was left of her with them.

How after six years, it felt like there was nothing left to give. Nothing that mattered.

Because she never mattered to them.

And Leah could see it...

How she no longer mattered to herself either.

But to  _Embry_ , she did.

She didn't fucking understand it. She didn't know why he had walked back into her life. Why he had come back. He _saw_  it though. He'd  _always_  seen it – some piece of herself she thought she lost along the way, one she couldn't feel anymore. One she wasn't sure how to find.

One Leah desperately wanted back...

And a part of her wondered. A part of her couldn't help but think that maybe she had ran so far she ended up at the beginning. At the starting line, in front of the very person who was standing there the moment her feet first hit the ground.

And maybe it was time to take another step.

A step  _back_.

Because Leah wanted a lot of things...

But she didn't want what she had – what she'd gotten used to. That frozen feeling. That sense of being stuck. Of drowning in her own self-hatred with no visible way out – no way except the one she'd always taken.

She wanted to rest. She wanted to breathe. She didn't want to run.

She wanted to stop.

She wanted to see what would happen if she did.

_She wanted to trust Embry..._

And Leah wanted to let him show her. To let go – if only for a moment. To let him see if he could find the woman he remembered. The one he kept fighting for.

The one she yearned to be again, even if she had no idea how to find her.

To help her prove to herself she needed something more than the bottomless existence she called a life.

Blinking, Leah once again found herself staring at the back of the passenger seat. Eyes wide open, she remembered who was next to her. She could feel Tony's cool palm on her thigh, pressing against her flesh as it crept under the hem of her dress.

Closing her eyes, her own hand lowered over his, stopping it. Keeping him from going any further.

She shook her head, the movement causing the lips at her throat to cease.

She opened her mouth, unfamiliar words forming on her tongue.

 _Welcome_  words leaving her lips.

"I can't do this..."

* * *

Embry let his head fall back against the elevator wall with a hard thump, his eyes closing as he listened to the distant bell ticking off the floors, taking him swiftly to his hotel room. Taunting him.

Ticking off every  _almost_. Every attempt he made.

Every single time he had failed. Just like he had that night.

_Again._

She'd somehow managed to evade him all night. He went to the firm he knew she worked at, only to find Autumn's confused stare when he showed up. To find out Leah hadn't gone into work that day. The helplessness in Autumn's voice when he asked where she was – where he could find her – only tightened the knot in his stomach. All she could do was shake her head and tell him that she didn't know.

But the phone had rang just as he was about to turn away. Wide eyes held on to his when Autumn answered it, quietly telling someone on the other end of the line that Leah wasn't in. Watching as her brows furrowed in confusion, the corners of her cherry-red lips pulling into a frown.

Embry suddenly couldn't move.

Autumn had hung up the phone slowly, her gaze refocusing on Embry.

"I could lose my job for this," she whispered, her eyes darting frantically in every direction. "But that was one of Leah's clients. He called to, um...to ask if she was here and to confirm their meeting tonight at Murphy's..."

He recognized the name long before Autumn's expression gave anything away.

He remembered seeing it on a sign just before he walked in.

He remembered the bartender's voice...

" _Come back later though. It's Thursday...the company here's usually better than me..."_

Embry had taken the long way there, making one stop first. Standing outside her apartment for longer than he should have, he tried to gather courage he hadn't thought he would need as the sun sank beneath a distant, invisible horizon. Marking the time he had left to find her before things only got worse.

Taking a deep breath, he went in, heart pounding when he reached her door. It ceased to beat altogether the moment he lifted his hand, fingers curling into a fist before letting it knock lightly on the cool steel.

It sank when he didn't hear a fucking thing.

But he didn't stand there long. He left, knowing he would come back if he had to – if she wasn't at the next and last place he would look. Knowing he would sit outside her door all night if he was  _forced_  to.

When he finally made it to the bar counter, his gaze scanning the crowd for her, he didn't need to look anymore. He found the answer he was looking for the moment Kyle's eyes caught his. The moment the other man jerked his head toward the back of the building, that same knowing look in his eyes from earlier.

And somehow Embry just knew – what was happening. Where to go. Where to look.

Where to find her.

But she fucking slipped through his fingers... _again_. She left and he had stood there. He stood there for one fucking second too long before his legs decided to work. Before he went after her, pushing through the people, trying to make his way to the door. His heart racing faster every time he looked into a pair of eyes that weren't hers, when his gaze landed on a face that was too light. Too dark.

The city air plowed into him the moment his feet hit the concrete in front of the bar, eyes still searching frantically for any sign of Leah in the bodies littering the sidewalk outside.

But he saw nothing, and he tried harder than hell to hang on to what little hope he had left.

He walked back to his hotel, suddenly needing that fresh air. Trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do after he'd laid all his cards on the table, after he'd used every weapon – every piece of ammunition – he had in his arsenal. After he'd practically ripped his heart from his chest and offered it to her, bleeding and wanting in the palms of his hands.

He had no idea what he was going to do.

But it didn't matter. It didn't matter because he'd figure out a way to keep trying. He'd find a new way to get through, if that's what it came to.

He would try – every fucking day – until his plane took him back to La Push.

Maybe even after, if he had to.

With a sigh, Embry's gaze lowered as the elevator doors opened. Pushing himself off the wall, he exited the small space, feet moving slowly. His hand pushed into his back pocket, his eyes trained on the intricate carpet pattern beneath him as fingers dug for the key card to his room.

Finding it, he pulled it from his pocket.

Looking up, his legs stopped. His entire body froze when his eyes found something else, landing unexpectedly on the person sitting on the floor in front of his door. Long copper legs stretched out in front of her, crossed at the ankles. Holding his breath, his fingers gripped the key card tighter, his gaze traveling up until they found a pair of wide, dark brown eyes already looking back at him.

He smiled.

And Leah smiled back, the churning in her stomach lessening by a fraction at his gesture. She wasn't sure what to expect when he finally showed up or how he would react. If he would even show up at  _all_ , but she knew – that slight, knowing smile was the best possible outcome after everything that had happened. After everything she'd done. After all the times she pushed him away.

Licking her lips, she lowered her eyes, her gaze inexplicably focused on his shoes.

"So the security at this hotel is pretty fucking terrible," she finally spoke, a small laugh escaping her throat. "All it took was a little cleavage for the guy at the front desk to crack and give me your room number."

Leah's laugh fell short when Embry didn't answer, his silence the only response. Her heart stuttered in her chest, second-guessing herself. Second-guessing everything. Wondering if maybe she had truly fucked up whatever it was between them before it even started.

That maybe she'd pushed him too far that time...

And for a second, she couldn't breathe.

He took a step forward, and Leah looked up. Finding the smile gone from his lips but seeing the same softness in his eyes, one laced with a hundred questions she wasn't sure she could answer.

But she would try... even if she could only answer one.

_She would try..._

"Why are you here, Leah?"

Her eyes watched as his arm lifted from his side, reaching for her. Leah regarded his outstretched hand for a moment. Finding her breath, she took it, allowing him to pull her trembling body to her feet.

Straightening her dress, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, leaning against the doorframe leading to his room. Looking up, she took a deep breath, holding his curious gaze as she spoke.

"I ran," she replied quietly, "but I'm not sorry..."

"Leah," he interrupted her, taking another step forward, stopping when she held one hand out to silence him. Her expression unchanged but her eyes pleading to let her finish.

"I'm  _not_  sorry," she repeated with finality, holding on to those eyes for everything she was worth. Finding that last bit of strength she needed to  _stop_. To take that first step back. "I'm not sorry because somehow...I ended up here."

Embry's eyes closed at her words, his shoulders rising and falling with a deep, labored breath. Almost like it was the first one he'd taken all day. Her lungs mimicked the action, providing her with her own kind of peace. One she wasn't used to but wasn't going to question.

"And right now," she whispered, "that's all I can give you." His gaze was back again, silently telling her he was listening. "But that's more than I've given anyone in a long time, and...it has to be enough."

He still didn't speak, and Leah's eyes searched his for something – anything – to show her he understood.

He didn't speak, taking another step toward her, closing that last bit of distance. His eyes refused to release hers as his arms lifted, taking her face between his hands. She held her breath, feeling that familiar heat once again. Eyes closing, she relished it – savored it that time – as it soaked into her skin.

 _He didn't speak_ , but he said everything he needed to when she felt warm lips press against her forehead. Softly. Gently. Carrying more promise than she needed, but one she held on to anyway.

Realizing in that moment just how much she  _truly_  needed it.

And she didn't protest – she didn't speak a word either – when she felt his hands lower. When his arms wrapped around her body, pulling him to her. Surrounding her with his warmth. His scent. Cocooning her in that same silent promise.

She didn't pull away.

She didn't  _run_  away.

Leah planted her feet. Taking a deep breath, every muscle in her body relaxed, for the first time her arms finding their own way around his waist. Surrendering to what he was offering her. What he had offered her all along...

A family. A protector.

A piece of the home she left, even if he was still a part of it. Even if she wasn't sure if or  _how_  she could ever be again.

But in that moment, it didn't matter.

She relaxed into his embrace, knowing whatever road lay ahead of her wouldn't be easy. She swallowed the fear she knew was still in her somewhere, letting the heat from Embry's arms sweep it away. All of it – the scars she still wore. But more so, the battles she had yet to fight. Ones she had to remember how to win.

_It didn't matter..._

Because in that moment, she would let Embry remember for her.

And maybe in time, she'd learn to remember too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Cue the singers and the hallelujah chorus* Amiright?! ;)
> 
> See that, guys? That ladder I strategically set up in this chapter? You know that means right? While there will be still be challenges to come, more dips here and there, and more story to tackle, Leah's on that ladder – climbing her way back up. Woooot!
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, thoughts?! REALLY can't wait to hear them. :)


	10. Welcome

_**Suggested Listening: "Bones" by Ben Howard, "Halcyon" by Ellie Goulding, "Sweater Weather" by The Neighborhood, "Lonely Hands" by Angus & Julia Stone, "Youth" by Daughter** _

Sighing heavily, Leah trailed her fingers over the numerous bottles of wine on the shelf of the corner grocery a few blocks from her loft, hand pausing momentarily over a bottle of merlot she'd tried before. Taking a deep breath, she tried to squelch the weird, somewhat lost feeling deep in her gut.

She didn't think it would feel so odd, trying to remember what normal, less broken people did with their Friday nights – Friday nights that didn't include the bar she normally called home.

The itch was still there, buried somewhere. It was like a debilitating habit – an addiction that wouldn't be easy to break.

But that wasn't happening. Not anymore.

If she was going to have any real chance at mending the pieces of her life, she had to go cold turkey. Cut the problem off at the source. Make a clean break.

Starting with Friday night.

In her purse was a movie she'd picked up at the video store she'd spotted a few doors down after getting off her train from the city, even if she wasn't sure she was going to watch it. The idea was stuck in her head though, some foreign notion that involved it, a pair of sweatpants, and a bowl of popcorn in her lap.

Come to think of it, she was pretty sure she didn't even  _own_  a fucking pair of sweatpants...

Leah shook her head, trying to rid herself of the ridiculous thoughts, realizing they didn't matter. So long as she didn't do what she'd  _been_  doing. What she had done before, because that was a better step than none at all.

And she'd taken the first step she needed to the night before.

Closing her eyes, the memories were still loud and clear in her mind.

When she'd finally pulled away from Embry, still standing outside his hotel room, he'd smiled at her before reaching around and quietly unlocking the door. He didn't speak – didn't invite her in – but a part of her knew she couldn't leave. Going home wasn't an option. She didn't want to be alone, still somewhat unsure of her determination and whether or not it would see her through the night. If it would still be there in the morning.

So she followed him into the darkness of the room, one hand subconsciously reaching out, capturing the hem of his t-shirt between shaking fingers. Hanging on, even as he slowed down slightly but pretended not to notice.

Eventually, she let him go, closing the door and allowing her body to relax against the cool wood. Embry took a few steps into the silent room before turning around, catching her gaze.

"I'll be right back," he whispered, soft eyes holding hers for a moment and his voice nearly getting lost in the darkness.

Leah nodded, watching him make his way across the room, turning on the light in the bathroom before closing the door.

She lost track of how long she stood there, seconds ticking by before she finally straightened, absentmindedly kicking off her heels and leaving them where they landed by the door. Leaving the lights off, her feet carried her across the room even though she wasn't completely sure why. Hands moved, reaching behind her, inexplicably steady fingers finding the small zipper on her dress. Lowering it in one swift movement, she allowed the garment to fall to the floor. The sounds of Embry moving inside the bathroom barely registered as she stepped over the heap in which it landed.

Again, she wasn't sure why she had done it – what she was hoping to accomplish – when she leaned forward, hands pressing into the plush comforter covering the immaculately made bed. Why she crawled onto it, crossing the short distance before reaching the pillows and allowing her body, clothed in nothing but her underwear, to stretch out on her side. To feel the icy cold material against her flesh.

_She'd always avoided beds..._

But all she knew was she was still exhausted. Still so tired.

She didn't want to leave. She wanted to be there...where she felt safe, knowing if she woke up in the morning and Embry's face was the first thing she saw, she wouldn't forget. She would remember his words.

She would remember he was there, and she would remember why she was too.

Her eyes were still wide and alert when the bathroom door opened, flooding the room in light for a single moment before it once again was plunged into darkness. Leah held her breath, listening as Embry hesitated in the doorway. As his feet finally carried him toward the bed, the sound of every movement loud and clear in her ears.

Leah still didn't breathe when she felt the bed behind her give way beneath his weight, her entire body stiff, waiting for him to say something – to protest. To tell her whatever she was doing wasn't a good idea, considering what they'd just been through and what Embry had witnessed earlier that night.

Swallowing thickly, a deeply embedded part of her expected him to send her away.

But Embry never spoke a word.

Leah finally drew in a deep, relieved breath the moment she felt that consuming heat at her back. When a strong arm wrapped around her body without a single sound, pulling her closer to that warmth. Wrapping her in it the same way he had minutes earlier when they were standing in the hallway, the same way he had so many years ago when her life had irrevocably changed. Before it all fell apart, back when she was terrified and alone and in danger of losing herself completely.

Embry didn't move. He simply held her.

And she let him.

One by one, every tense, exhausted muscle in Leah's body relaxed. She finally closed her eyes, her entire body curling into his, wanting to lose herself in all of it. She listened to him breathe, each exhale warm as it pushed through her hair, his mouth unmoving even though it rested gently against the back of her head.

Neither of them moved, but it wasn't long before she closed her eyes, Embry's even breaths – the rise and fall of his chest against her back, the comfort of his arm wrapped tightly around her – pulling Leah into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When her eyes opened the next morning, it didn't take long for that heat to soak back into her senses. Leah held her breath, realizing neither one of them had moved throughout the night.

A part of her didn't want to disturb that.

That was all it took, a few moments at the beginning of a new day – Embry's arm still draped across her body, the sound of soft snores filtering through the early-morning light – for her to remember every word that passed between them the night before. To once again feel everything that pushed through her veins in that car. What she felt when she was sitting outside Embry's door, and when he pulled her into his arms after she told him she would try.

To realize it was still there.

All of it, and so was that strength, tucked right beside a fierce – and maybe even premature – determination to do better.

Blinking, the bottles of wine reappeared in front of Leah. Hesitating for a single moment, she took a deep, cleansing breath, eventually letting her hand move from the bottle of merlot. She continued down the aisle till she reached the whites, her eyes landing on a Sauvignon blanc with a colorful label.

_Something different._

Pulling her lip between her teeth, she reached up, deft fingers swiping it from the shelf and depositing it in the basket hanging from her arm.

Walking slowly back up the aisle, Leah's mind drifted, thinking of dinner. The thought didn't stay long, interrupted by the trilling of her cell phone.

Shifting the basket to her other arm, Leah reached into her purse, rummaging through its contents until she located the phone. Pulling it out in one swift movement, her gaze fell on the caller ID, a subtle warmth crawling through her veins the moment she did.

A slight smile pulled at her lips when she hit the button to answer it, lifting the phone to her ear.

"You better have a Brat Pack movie to contribute to my Friday night in or else I'm hanging up on you," she said in exchange for a greeting, letting her eyes trail over the bottles of wine to her left.

On the other end of the line, Embry snorted in surprise. "Well, lucky for you, I remembered to pack my copy of Pretty in Pink before I left."

Laughing, Leah welcomed the way Embry made her feel – like she wasn't facing a night she wasn't sure she could handle. Like her idea wasn't the most ridiculous thing she could come up with. Reaching into her purse to snag her wallet, she precariously balanced the shopping basket on her hip and the phone against her shoulder.

She and Embry went their separate ways that morning – Leah back to her apartment to shower, change, and face two days worth of work she knew she'd have to catch up on, and Embry to his meeting with the head of the company that wanted to invest money in the new garage. When Leah finally showed up at the office, she dodged Autumn's twenty questions about the day before – most of them skeptical in nature and probing about the sickness Leah hadn't actually come down with. Eventually she sent Autumn to a not-so-important meeting with a smaller client just to get the other woman out of her hair for a couple hours.

Finally leaving work for the day, she kept her phone close by. Staring out the train window on her way back to Bucktown, a part of her thought about calling Embry to see how the meeting went, but another part didn't want to push it. She wasn't sure how far he would step onto the welcome mat she'd barely placed outside the door.

And Leah wasn't sure how far  _she_  could step onto it just yet.

Yet she couldn't ignore the relief she felt standing in the aisle of the store, catching herself not minding so much – recognizing that same warmth, even though it somehow felt different – as she listened to his familiar laugh dwindle on the other end of the line.

"Perfect," she murmured, letting a moment of silence pass between them before pausing in the middle of the aisle. Frowning, she could hear the sounds of many voices on his end, like he was caught in the bustle of a large crowd of people. "Where are you?"

"Some place called Whole Foods," he replied eventually, and Leah pulled her lip between her teeth to keep from laughing. "I asked concierge for a grocery store, and this is where they sent me. This place is fucking...overwhelming."

"Yeah," she murmured. "It's a little much. A far cry from the Thriftway in Forks."

"No shit," he countered. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm pretty sure it has what I'm looking for...I just need to find it first."

Leah fell in line behind a small handful of people at the single checkout inside the store. "And what are you looking for exactly?"

Embry chuckled. "Dinner."

Leah's mind drifted for a moment while she chewed on his response. Granted, it had been dark in his hotel room, but she couldn't remember a kitchen hidden anywhere inside the suite.

She opened her mouth to respond, aimlessly tossing a magazine into the basket, before Embry interrupted her.

"Speaking of that...do you have plans tonight?"

Taking a deep breath, earlier thoughts came back to her quickly, eyes falling on the basket containing the magazine and the bottle of wine she'd picked out at random. Heaving a forlorn sigh, she shook her head. "No..."

"Good," Embry came back, the metallic sound of a voice over a loudspeaker echoing through the earpiece of Leah's phone. "Because these dinner plans involve you."

Lips parting, Leah's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Oh, really?"

"Oh, yes," he replied knowingly. "Where are you right now?"

Smirking, Leah shook her head, the tone of his voice nothing if not determined. Letting her know without saying it that regardless of what she thought, there would be no opposition to his idea – and it wasn't up for discussion.

But deep down, Leah wasn't sure she wanted to protest.

"About four blocks from my place," she answered.

"Good," he said quickly. "Go home when you're done. I'll be there in an hour."

"Embry..." Leah mumbled, not entirely convinced that what she was about to say was what she really wanted. "There's gotta be about a thousand better things to do in Chicago on a Friday night than babysit me."

Embry scoffed. "Who said anything about babysitting?" he retorted. "I need to eat, you need to eat, and I need a kitchen. Problem solved."

Leah blinked, staring blankly at the back of the bald head of the person in front of her. "You're cooking?"

Silence. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Well...no, but..."

"But nothing," he cut in, Leah's mouth still hanging open. "Wherever you are, go home when you're done. I'll be there in about an hour or so. Maybe a little longer...if I can ever find where they hide the meat in this place."

Laughing in spite of herself, Leah shook her head, her stomach suddenly a huge fucking ball of nerves as the reality of what was going to happen that night set in. A part of her unable to  _not_  feel like it would be some sort of a test – a do-over for both of them while, at the same time, the first attempt by Embry to stick his toe in the door she had barely opened for him the night before.

But even she knew it was something she couldn't argue – the necessity of it. The knowledge that  _she_  had welcomed it, despite only saying a few words.

Still, it all felt new. Foreign, but in a completely different way, and that time she had nothing to hide behind. No walls, no boundaries. Whether she liked it or not, she'd let her guard down the night before just long enough for Embry to climb in with her.

He was there...and he wasn't going anywhere. That much she did know. That much she'd figured out already, and a large part of her couldn't refute the fact she was thankful for it, even if she didn't know how to say it. Even if she didn't know how to tell him.

So she said the next best thing.

"Fine," she gave in, offering a small smile to the checker as he greeted her. "You remember how to get there?"

"Yup," Embry answered surely. "So I'll see you in an hour?"

Leah nodded, swallowing what little anxiety lingered in her throat.

"See you in an hour."

* * *

Leah was standing in the middle of her kitchen – tightly gripping the neck of the wine bottle under one hand and using the other to twist the corkscrew further into the top of it – when she heard the knock on her door.

Taking a deep breath, she released her grip on it, wiping clammy palms on the front of her shorts before turning and hurrying toward the entryway. She paused for a moment in front of the mirror that hung opposite the door. She'd gone no frills for the night – tattered jean shorts, a simple white tank top and her midnight hair swept up into a messy bun.

Leah closed her eyes, unsure of why her appearance suddenly mattered. Embry had seen her in worse and less and the way she looked in that moment was nothing compared to that. Groaning quietly, she turned around, taking the few steps needed to reach the door. She unlocked the deadbolt, letting trembling fingers curl around the doorknob.

She opened it to a grinning Embry, who was holding a paper bag under one arm and a six-pack of beer in the other hand.

Leaning against the doorframe, Leah shook her head, laughing before she could stop herself. "I have booze here, you know," she chuckled, pointing at the container of bottles in his right hand.

Embry lifted one eyebrow teasingly, eyes never leaving hers. "I brought my own this time." His lips pursed together, still watching Leah as she found herself unable to look away, captivated by how his expression closely resembled the one she had seen a week earlier in the bar. The one she'd seen for the first time in six years, an expression that carried a lightness – an exuberance – she'd stolen the moment she opened her mouth and spoke to him.

The eyebrow went back up. "Can I come in?"

Blinking, Leah nodded wildly, taking a step back. "Yeah...of course. Sorry."

Holding on to the door, she stepped aside long enough for Embry to walk by, closing it behind him. Once he was out of sight, she paused for a moment, taking another deep breath to gather her bearings. To push all the inexplicable nerves as far down as she could before following him into the kitchen.

Embry was standing at the kitchen island when she walked in, pulling packages out of the grocery bag.

"I like your place," he said quietly without looking up from his task.

Leah smiled as she approached the island, sliding into one of the stools she'd pulled up to it earlier. Reaching forward, she pulled over the bottle of wine to finish uncorking it. "Thanks," she murmured, finally removing the cork from the bottle. As she untwisted it from the utensil, she let her eyes wander over the spread of groceries Embry was placing over the countertop. Italian sausage, fresh basil, mushrooms...

"So...what exactly are you making?"

Grinning easily, Embry didn't look up from what he was doing. "Spaghetti...well, my version of it."

Lifting her own eyebrow in curiosity, Leah poured herself a glass of wine – still watching Embry as she did – trying to remember any time from before when he had indicated an interest in cooking. Regardless, she came up short.

"Wanna help?" Embry's gaze lifted, sincerity plastered across his expression.

Eyes widening slightly, Leah shook her head. "You don't want my help, trust me...pretty sure I could burn water if I tried hard enough."

Rolling his eyes, Embry folded up the paper bag and placed it on the counter behind him. "Where do you keep the knives?"

"Top drawer, right next to the stove."

Following her instructions, Embry retrieved a chef's knife from the drawer, bringing it back to the island and sliding it across the butcher-block surface toward Leah. "Pretty sure you can't screw anything up by helping me chop stuff."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Leah grumbled, a quiet chuckle following her words when Embry handed her the basil and garlic. "You might lose a thumb from all the way over there." When Embry laughed, she let one corner of her mouth lift with an amused smile. "I definitely did not get my mother's cooking genes..."

Embry paused for a moment, watching her as she opened the container of basil. "How is your mom?" he asked tentatively.

Leah shrugged, ignoring how her heart pounded instinctively beneath the question. How the subtle ache in her chest appeared, the same one that showed up almost every time she thought about either her mother or her brother.

"You tell me...you probably talk to her more than I do."

"Why do you say that?" Embry's voice was farther away, thick with a nonchalance she knew he was using on purpose. Still, Leah glanced up to see him searching her cupboards for pots and pans.

Swallowing, she took a calming breath, pulling out a few sprigs of basil from the packaging. "I only talk to her every few months or so, and when I do, it's not for very long." Lining up the herbs beneath the knife, Leah began to chop.

"She never said anything, you know..."

Looking up from what she was doing, Leah frowned at Embry's back as he filled a pot of water at the sink. "What do you mean?"

"About where you were," Embry replied, still not turning around. "We would ask...a lot, but she would never give us the answers we wanted."

"You asked her?" The surprise in Leah's voice, to hear Embry talk about how he and the others had attempted to find her, wasn't something she could hide.

Finally, he turned from the sink, his gaze finding hers as he approached the stove. "Yeah. Like I said...a lot. But I guess if there's one thing you did get from her, it was the fact you're both stubborn as hell."

The small truth of it allowed the smile to stay where it was, but inside, Leah couldn't quite swallow back the subtle flare of regret and anger she felt listening to Embry talk about it. Anger toward her mother, and anger toward herself.

A part of her couldn't blame her mother for what she'd done, for simply doing what Leah told her to do – to keep her mouth shut, to listen when Leah asked her not to tell anyone where she was. She never wanted to be found and she made it perfectly clear to her mother, using every tactic she could think of to keep her quiet. Threatening to never come home again if she breathed a word of it to anyone, even though in reality, Leah never had any intention of going back to La Push.

The anger in Leah's stomach melted quickly into a crippling remorse, but she kept it inside, letting her eyes follow Embry as he moved around the kitchen. Leah's actions, the belief that her pack had never tried to find her. But more so, it was the hard place she had put her own mother in – a spot somewhere between a fierce sense of loyalty toward her daughter and the fear of never seeing her again, suddenly slapped her in the face with a jarring clarity.

But after a handful of years, and especially in that moment, it wasn't difficult to see the other side of it.

Sue Clearwater had given up on her daughter – on the hope of ever getting through to her. Of ever getting her to come to her senses. She'd lost faith in Leah's threats. She'd given up, thinking her daughter was too far gone.

Cutting her losses, and Leah knew it, so she'd stopped trying right along with her mother.

And that hurt worst of all, knowing that was something that lay ahead of her – something she would someday have to fix, even if she had no idea how. Even though she knew deep down, she was the one who had broken it in the first place.

Still, a part of her couldn't help but think – the same part watching Embry's fluid movements as he navigated her kitchen – that maybe her mother could have fucking tried a little harder too.

But Leah pushed it from her mind, saving it someplace inside her for later, focusing her stare on the basil spread out across the island. Focusing on the  _night_  in front of her and reminding herself to take it all one step at a time.

"So how did the meeting go this morning?"

Pouring olive oil into a frying pan that now rested on top of the stove, Embry turned around, a blinding smile on his face.

"I sign the papers next week."

Letting go of the knife, Leah couldn't help it as her mouth fell open in astonishment. "Oh, my god! Embry...that's fantastic!"

Leaning against the counter next to the stove, Embry crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I know. Jake was there over conference call and he liked everything he heard and so did the old man, so...everything's pretty much a go."

Smiling, Leah brushed the basil into a small pile before reaching for the garlic. "Well, congratulations, big shot." Looking up, she winked at Embry, who still had the grin attached to his lips.

"Thanks," he said quietly, his eyes dancing as he watched her. "I guess it hasn't really sunk in yet. Probably gonna need at least another day or two to wrap my head around the fact it's actually real, you know? That it's actually happening."

"So, you never told me," Leah continued, looking up from the garlic, "where's the new garage going to be?"

"Just outside of Port Angeles," Embry replied, not moving from his spot, his gaze still fixed on Leah. "Jake's got his eye on a building for sale on the west side of town near the highway. Now that the meeting is over, I'd imagine he'll probably be heading up there Monday to get the ball rolling. They're not asking much for it, and the market is better there than anywhere else in the county."

Leah wasn't sure why she frowned, the sound of the knife clicking against the kitchen island the only one she could hear. "So, you'd have to move there?"

"I don't know yet," he responded, finally taking a step forward and transferring the sausage to the counter next to the stove, unwrapping it as he continued. "I haven't really decided what I want to do, although it would probably be easier if I  _did_  move there. It would be an almost forty-five minute commute one way if I didn't."

"That'll probably be an...adjustment," Leah ventured, using her index finger to clear the knife of garlic shards, a part of her instinctively wandering back to her own memories – her own moments – where she couldn't keep her mind from home. When she couldn't help but wonder about the people she left behind, how they were doing, how life was without her.

How things might have different if she'd kept them close by...

"I wouldn't be too far from home," Embry interrupted her thoughts, negating them without even realizing it. "I think that would make it easier."

Leah didn't reply, part of her buried deep down wanting to agree with him but failing to materialize a response. Instead, she took a deep breath, letting her curiosity roam. Another part of her wanted to know more – for him to tell her more than she allowed him to say during any of the time they'd spent together that week.

To hear everything else she'd missed in  _his_  life.

"So where are you living now?"

"In an apartment down by the marina," he answered, the sausage sizzling as soon as it hit the hot skillet. "Turned eighteen and pretty much got the hell out of my mom's place. It's not much, but I can walk to work from there. It's small, and nothing like this," Embry peeked over his shoulder, nodding toward Leah's loft, "but it's helped me save up money to hopefully buy my own place someday soon...and it's enough for just me."

"Just you?" Leah chuckled, pausing to take a sip of wine. "You cook, you have your own place, you're about to own a business..." She leaned back in her chair, offering him a coy, curious smile when he peered over his shoulder. "You think one of the girls on the rez woulda snatched you up by now."

With a shy smirk, Embry lowered his gaze, shaking his head. "You would think."

Leah wasn't sure why she asked, but the words fell quietly from her lips anyway. "Have there been any? Girls, I mean."

Embry's smile stayed where it was, but he still didn't look at her. "There've been a few. Longest lasted almost a year, but..." That time, he took a breath, meeting her eyes. "Since I couldn't tell any of them...about the pack, I mean...it got kind of hard after a while to come up with excuses for disappearing for hours at a time without them thinking something completely different..."

Leah swallowed roughly, knowing what he meant as she grimaced behind her hand.

Knowing perfectly well what a life like his – a life she used to have – could cost them.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again to find him watching her. "I'm sorry, Em," she said quietly.

He shrugged, shaking his head before he turned away. "Oh, well. I got over it...everything happens for a reason, and when it's not meant to be...it's not."

Leah's stomach twisted at his words, a part of her thinking he hadn't meant them for just himself.

"What about you?" he asked tentatively, unexpectedly interrupting her thoughts. "Did you ever try to date?"

Leah's insides tightened instinctively, everything inside her programmed to shut down at the question. To run from a subject she usually avoided. Taking a deep breath, she tried to push it down. To respond  _differently_. To find the strength somewhere inside her to answer the question – and to give him an honest response.

"No," was the best she could come up with, shaking her head and glancing up, meeting Embry's eyes and realizing she didn't need to say more for him to understand.

But that didn't stop the words from coming out.

"Last night, you asked me why..." she murmured, watching as Embry slowly turned to face her. Abandoning what he was doing as he simply watched her, his jaw tight and his expression stoic. "It was easier that way. I got what I thought I needed and I thought there was nothing to lose when I did. What happened before..." She paused, swallowing thickly and forcing the rest of the words out. "... _couldn't_  happen if I did things that way."

She looked back to Embry in time to see the flicker of soft understanding pass through his expression.

"Leah..."

She looked away, the care in his voice prompting more words to form on her tongue – almost making her want to shut down, but she didn't, remembering the ones he'd spoken the night before. Words she was grateful for – the reason they were both sitting in the same place, having the conversation.

And she needed to say more.

"I've been messed up for a long time, Embry, and it's gonna take me even longer to get past all this shit I made for myself by doing things that way, but...I'm glad you're here...and that we're doing this." The words threatened to stick in her throat, each one of them feeling heavy and foreign and final, but she pushed them out anyway. Each one suddenly rising from a place she'd felt that morning, the night before. Words she suddenly needed to say, even if they didn't come out right.

_Telling him..._

"I'm glad it was you...that came back."

It took a moment, Leah's lips parting as her eyes finally met Embry's. Her breath catching in her chest when he gave her an easy, knowing smile. Before he turned back to the stove and Leah went back to chopping garlic, a part of her was relieved. A part of her a little lighter, simply because she managed to put a voice to the overwhelming and unexplainable gratitude she felt.

"Me too," he whispered.

* * *

"That was...really fucking good."

Leah watched Embry's shoulders shake as he laughed from where he was rinsing dishes in a sink that probably hadn't seen soapy water in the better part of a year.

The night had passed easily, much to Leah's relief. As they ate dinner, the conversation came swiftly and Leah's anxiety lessened as the minutes went by, and Embry was able to pick up on it.

"Thanks," he replied, grabbing the towel next to him and drying his hands as he turned around.

Raising her eyebrows, Leah took a sip of her wine before using her index finger to point to his left. "I do have a dishwasher, you know."

"I know," he answered, "but there wasn't that many to do...and I'm kinda used to  _being_  the dishwasher. If I don't do them, they'll never get done. That's kind of where the cooking thing came from too. I mean, I can't eat dinner at Sam and..."

Embry's words stuttered – cutting off almost as abruptly as they came – but it was too late, the silence suddenly thick as Leah's stomach jumped into her throat. Taking only a second to realize it was the first time she had heard Embry say  _his_  name.

He had slipped, and Leah could feel him waiting. Waiting for her to react or to see what she would say, she didn't know. Still, she closed her eyes instinctively, fingers curling tighter around the wine glass. Her chest tight, swallowing back the burn inside, forcing herself to breathe.

"I'm sorry, Leah," she heard Embry say, his voice thick with regret.

Taking another breath, she shook her head, forcing herself to open her eyes. "Say what you were gonna say," she said quietly, bending her shaking fingers into a fist. Her voice low, steady, and almost too controlled.

Embry looked hesitant, lips parted slightly and eyes latching onto hers. Seeking permission, his mouth finally moved when he found it somewhere. "I was gonna say...I can't eat dinner at Sam and Emily's every night."

It hurt. It fucking hurt like hell, stealing what little breath Leah had in her, all of it threatening to come back. Everything threatening to unravel with a simple slip of the tongue.

But she held on – to the eyes watching hers. Remembering to breathe. Nodding.

"It's...okay."

But she didn't push it. She didn't ask him to say anything more, letting her stare drop, fingers reaching out and grabbing her cell phone, which rested inches away on the top of the island.

"Bella helped a lot, actually," Embry continued, his voice wavering slightly as Leah cradled the phone between her fingers, scrolling quickly through her work email. Letting herself be distracted for just a moment until she could calm the simmering just below her skin and the crawling sensation that still rested in her hands. "Teaching me how to cook, I mean. I think she just got sick of having us over at her and Jake's all the time too, but I know she enjoyed it. Jake's like you when it comes to cooking...just keep him out of the kitchen. I was a little bit better of a student..."

Embry's laugh pulled Leah away from her phone, looking up to see set the towel down on the counter. She lowered the device, replacing it in one hand with her glass of wine and taking another sip.

"It's almost ten," he murmured, leaning against the counter, watching Leah as she placed the glass back on the island. "I should probably get going."

"Yeah," she agreed, although a part of her that  _wasn't_  buried all that deep didn't want him to. It had been a good night – an easy night – despite the fears and anxiety Leah carried into it. Even though a part of her knew it would be, simply being  _around_  Embry was easy. It was comforting. Warm.

He brought out something in her, just like he always had.

But Leah slid from her seat anyway, bare feet hitting the wooden floor, Embry's eyes still fixed on her even as he pushed himself off the counter.

"Don't forget your beer," she murmured automatically, pointing toward the fridge.

One corner of Embry's mouth pulled into a smile. "I'll leave it here, just in case," he said quietly, his gaze dropping as he walked away, heading toward the entryway. "Or you can drink it...whichever."

Leah's feet moved without waiting for permission, phone still clasped between her fingers as she followed him to the door, hanging back a couple feet even though she wasn't sure why. He opened it, peering back as her lips parted, unable to think of what she could say. A part of her didn't want to say goodbye – the word seemed too stiff, too final. A part of her wanted to move, remembering how his arms felt around her the night before. A part of her wanting to feel that again before he walked away. Another wanting to see what he was doing the next day...

"So, I'll talk to you soon then..."

The thoughts collided in her head, almost drowning out Embry's voice, causing her mouth to go dry and all words to disappear.

Remembering she had no fucking clue how to do what they were doing...whatever it was.

Until her fingers curled around her phone.

Until she remembered the email she had read just before Embry had started talking about Bella and Jake and cooking and being a good student...

She blinked, noticing Embry was still smiling at her, but turning to go.

"Hey, Em?"

The words tumbled from her lips before she could stop them.

But they stopped Embry, his frame twisting to face her, brows arched expectantly as he waited for her to continue.

Frowning, Leah placed a hand on her hip, eyes suddenly on the floor. "So, I was checking an email a minute ago, and I had one from my boss. I guess, uh...I guess him and a couple of the other partners are meeting for dinner tomorrow night and he just sent me a last minute invite. He told me not to miss it."

She was rambling by that point, not quite sure what she was doing even though she had a good idea where it was going to end up.

"But, um...do you..." She took a deep breath, finally tearing her eyes from the floor and meeting Embry's slightly amused gaze. It made her want to stop. It made her want to stuff the words back in her mouth, but she shook her head, forcing the rest of them out anyway.

"Do you want to go with me?"

Her heart was pounding by the time she closed her mouth, wishing wildly for a moment that she'd simply kept it that way.

"On a Saturday?" Embry asked quietly.

Leah nodded briskly. "I know, they do things like that sometimes... and I mean, the firm will pay for it." She was talking again, wishing in that moment Embry would just fucking say something and shut her up. "So worst-case scenario, we can use it as an excuse to celebrate the deal on the garage. My bosses are all assholes who love to throw the company's money around, so..."

"Leah..."

_Thank god._

She closed her mouth again with a snap, trying to ignore how Embry was silently chuckling, hopelessly trying to contain the grin on his face.

Leah wasn't sure why she held her breath when he leaned forward slightly, one eyebrow rising like she should have known the answer all along.

Like she should have known he'd be there when she took that step too.

"I'd love to go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you guys enjoyed this little break from the mega-angst. ;)
> 
>  
> 
> Finally, big thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter. On that note, the next one might be a little late next week. I have a work event that's going to take up my entire weekend this week and cut significantly into my writing time. I heart you all madly for the love and for your patience (in advance).
> 
> ANYWAY, thoughts on this chapter?


	11. Opportunity

_**Suggested Listening: "One More Day" by Lydia, "The Ladder" by Andrew Belle, "Run" by Daughter, "Under My Arrest" by Fossil Collective, "Leases & Promises" by Spokane, "Come Clean" by Greg Laswell** _

" _So, you're not gonna like...make me call you_ sir _now, are you?"_

Grinning, Embry looked away from where his fingers fumbled with the button on his shirt cuff, his gaze landing on his phone sitting on the desk a few feet away. "Nah, dude. Plus, you said you didn't want to come work at the new shop, so I won't be your boss anyway."

Quil Ateara's hearty snort echoed through the phone's speaker, filling the silent hotel room.

" _Well, I still might...shit's been fucking nuts at the shop this week. Jake's right hand goes away for a week and the whole damn place goes to the dogs...literally."_

Finally managing to slip the button through the hole, Embry let his arms drop to his sides, heaving a deep breath alongside it. "I'm sure it hasn't been that bad..."

" _Trust me, man...it's been that bad. Bella stormed in here the other day on the warpath and you weren't there to intercept her like normal. Paul and me hid out in the last bay while she read Jake the riot act about not picking his clothes up off the floor that morning or some stupid shit like that. Fucking hormones... Then she started bawling and ran out of there like she was on fire and Jake went after her. Didn't see him for the rest of the day, then I had to deal with it when Old Man Littlesea didn't get his car back by five. That old coot scares the shit out of me, dude."_

Smoothing his white button-down shirt, Embry appraised himself on the mirror hanging on the back of the bathroom door, releasing a detached chuckle. Both his reflection and Quil's voice fading somewhere into the background the longer he stood there staring. Remembering...

Embry's mind was a million other places besides the conversation he was having with Quil. Instead, it rested heavily on what was to come. How he looked. Where he would be going in less than an hour.

Who he would be going with.

_Leah..._

Fuck, the thought of it – of  _her_  – made his stomach twist in knots. The way she smiled, the expression obscured only slightly by her wine glass, the candid words she spoke. The strength she'd shown already without even realizing it, and the feeling it caused inside him whenever he caught her looking at him with an appreciation and willingness he couldn't fathom. An ease in her gaze he couldn't comprehend.

It was so different, a complete turn from two days earlier when everything had seemed so hopeless. When a part of him, despite his determination, felt like there would be nothing he could ever do to get through to Leah. To make her see what he saw. To believe what he believed. To make her remember just long enough to stop.

He  _thought_  it was hopeless.

But then he found her – sitting outside his hotel room with a resignation in her eyes he had longed to see. One he'd wished wildly for, put on display carefully next to a willingness to let go. If not completely, than at least enough to let him in there with her – to let him  _stay_.

If he hadn't known before, he could feel it when he wrapped his arms around her and she didn't push back. She didn't pull away, and he could feel it when she leaned into him – in the way her heart calmed, in the way her body relaxed into his – letting him protect her in a way she never had before.

And he knew she had.  _Somehow_ , she believed him.

Still, the moment she walked out of his hotel room the morning before, he knew it was far from over. The step she had taken was only a small one and there were so many more to take.

There was so much more to face.

For  _both_  of them.

Because she was there...all the time. In his head more than ever. Inside him. The simple memory of Leah – the whisper of her name perpetually resting on the tip of his tongue – ignited a fire inside him that only grew the more it resided there. The flames growing and burning faster when he thought of a memory she probably wanted to forget – of the realization he came to when his body was pressed against hers, resting between her legs as desperate lips and needful hands moved frantically across flesh.

Despite everything, that hadn't gone away for Embry and he knew that better than anyone.

It hadn't all been an act. Not for him.

He needed her too. Now that he had found her – now that she'd stopped running – he didn't want to make the same mistake twice. He never wanted to let her go.

And he wanted  _her_  in a way she couldn't possibly be ready for. In a way he was pretty sure he always had. In a way he wasn't sure she wanted in the first place...or would ever want again.

So he had to keep reminding himself, pushing back the ache twisting his insides – the distant scratch of the wolf inside him, growing more prominent by the minute. He had to remember that even though things were different than they were days earlier – that even though the energy between him and Leah was more open and different than it was before – he needed to let her move at her own pace.

Even if she never reached the place he stood in.

Even if the time he had left with her was limited.

He hated to think about it – about the fact he would be going home in six days, having no idea what he would leave behind or take with him when he went.

Shaking his head, Embry remembered where he was. He pushed it back, reminding himself to focus on that day and on the dinner that was only an hour away.

The days were numbered, but he would do what he could to make it count, even if he didn't know how things would end up. If there would be any resolution or release for what was unfolding inside him. If he would leave Leah in a place better than the one he found her in.

It didn't matter because he was going to be there, like he promised.  _Somehow_. Not just for her, but for him as well because in that moment, next to her was the only place he wanted to be. To take those steps with her while he could. To show her she made the right choice and to help her remember more. To be there for her the way none of them had when it was all she really needed.

To let her need  _him_ , if that's what she wanted.

No matter how long it was for, that was where he wanted to be – and in the meantime, he would take what he could get.

" _Dude, are you there?"_

Blinking, Embry tore his eyes away from the mirror, once again finding his phone where it rested on the desk. "Yeah, man, I'm here...sorry."

" _Did you hear what I said?"_

"No..." Embry murmured, unable to stop his eyes from going back to the mirror, appraising the dark wash jeans he'd paired with the shirt and hoping like hell it wouldn't be too casual for whatever restaurant they were going to.

" _Thanks for listening, man...always great to know I can come to you when I need a friend."_

"Dude," Embry quipped quickly, "shut the fuck up. Stop acting like a toddler and just tell me what you said."

" _Fuck off."_

A long, hesitant pause silenced the phone.

" _Well, it wasn't about me anyway."_

Embry scoffed. "Figured."

" _Anyway...I asked if you'd talked to Seth since you ran away to the big city?"_

"Yeah, he called me this week."

" _Did he tell you him and Grace set a date?"_

Breath catching in his lungs, Embry stared at the phone in disbelief as he grabbed the hanger holding his sport coat from the closet. "Seriously? Already? I just talked to him on Wednesday..."

" _Yeah, man...looks like we're gonna have a wedding in about a month or so. They weren't kidding when they said they didn't want to wait. I'm sure it'll be a shit show. Jake'll be all stressed out, Paul will try to get drunk and piss off Rachel the whole night, Bella'll be all eighteen months pregnant and moody..."_

Reminding himself to move, Embry slipped robotically into the coat, his mind instinctively drifting somewhere else – to  _someone_  else. "A month..." he muttered. "Jesus, that's not a lot of time."

It definitely was  _not_  enough time.

" _I know...but you know Grace. Between her, Sue, Emily, and Bella, I'm pretty sure they could have the whole fucking thing planned out in a couple days."_

Embry's stomach inexplicably wrenched the moment the words left Quil's mouth, feeling the absence of a name his friend didn't pick up on. At least not one he mentioned out loud.

" _Get this though, man...we were having dinner at Sam and Emily's last night and Grace decided to just casually announce that Seth should get in touch with Leah and ask her to be a bridesmaid..."_

Embry almost choked, his eyes widening as the rest of the air escaped rapidly from his lungs. "Are you serious?"

" _As a fucking heart attack. It was pretty god damn awkward, if we're being honest. Like, you could cut the tension with a knife, man. Sam's face went all pale and shit and I'm pretty sure you could have heard a pin drop in the kitchen if you listened hard enough. But get this...no one said a word until Emily spoke up and told Grace that would be a great idea."_

Swallowing thickly, Embry didn't even bother to pick up the phone as he sank to the edge of the bed, elbows finding his knees. Clasping his hands together, he pressed them to his mouth, shaking his head without really knowing why. Remembering another time – standing in Sam's kitchen – when Emily had spoken similar words. When she had went to bat for her cousin, despite everything that happened.

Over time, he had grown to respect Emily. To love her even, like he would a sister. She was kind and generous and she took care of others, especially the pack, even though it had taken a majority of them longer than was probably acceptable to warm up to her. To welcome her into a spot that had once been filled by someone else. Time, resignation, and patience had helped, but it was more than that.

As much as Embry had wanted to hate her at one point, he couldn't, because despite everything that happened and despite how Sam consistently bristled at the sound of Leah's name, Emily was one of the first to speak it in front of him. Emily was one of the first to speak of her cousin like she wasn't dead. Like she wasn't a ghost. Like she could still come home. She was one of the first to bring forward fond, happy memories, somehow managing to keep that hope alive in all of them.

They were noble words – admirable words – but they were exactly that. Words.

They still hadn't been enough.

"Has Seth even called Leah?" Embry said quietly, knowing Quil would hear him. Knowing the answer to his question despite asking it anyway. A huge part of him wanted to tell his friend but still remembered the promise he'd made to Leah a week earlier. Another part didn't want anyone else involved in what was going on, at least not yet. Not when Leah was still figuring out which way was up.

" _I don't think so...I caught the tail end of convo I probably wasn't supposed to hear when I lit out of there last night. Grace was asking Seth the same thing out on the back porch... Okay, so I was eavesdropping, but still...he made it sound like he planned to call her and she was yelling at him for not doing it yet and how it seemed weird that they've been together for a year and she's never even spoke to Leah. And how she's beginning to think she doesn't actually exist and blah, blah, blah. I try not to get in the middle of those things."_

Embry shook his head, managing to crack an ironic smile despite the fucking lead weight sitting right on his stomach. Quil was usually at the epicenter of all the biggest happenings in the pack, one nosy ear pressed to the ground, and Embry also didn't need Quil's words to reaffirm what a horrible liar he was.

Quil's voice interrupted Embry's thoughts, cutting into the silence once again.

" _Even so, man, do you really think Leah would come even if Seth did call her? It's been six years and she hasn't come home once. She doesn't even call. Fuck, we still don't even know where she is."_

Chewing on the inside of his lower lip, Embry ignored the obvious statements Quil made – the ones Embry wasn't supposed to have an answer to. Instead, he repeated the question in his head, knowing a week ago the answer would have been a clear and steady 'no'.

Yet in that moment, he couldn't help it as his hopes got the better of him. That maybe, if given just a little more time, the answer would be different.

"Who knows..." was all Embry could choke out.

Quil heaved a huge sigh on the other end of the line, causing Embry's head to snap toward the phone.

" _Well, I did talk to Seth this morning. He's gonna call you or text you later, I think, so..."_

Taking a deep breath, Embry stood, begrudgingly making his way toward the phone. "Thanks, man."

" _No problem. See you on Friday?"_

"See you then. Later, man." Embry murmured, picking up the phone from the desk, hitting the end button and trying to ignore the way Quil's words sat heavily inside him. How despite everything – despite how much he wanted it to be the one time Seth actually called his sister, that he would be the one to put pride and anger aside – a part of Embry couldn't get that one word out of his head.

_Time._

Reminding him again there wasn't much of it. That even though a part of him wanted to tell Leah about the wedding himself, another didn't want to be the person to do it. A part of him holding out even more hope, knowing that hearing the words from Seth's mouth could make all the difference needed when the days were so numbered.

That it would make a bigger difference  _period_.

That it would help remind Leah that as much as it was about finding the person she used to be, it was also about remembering the family still missing her at home – even if they couldn't seem to figure out the right way to tell her.

Embry sighed, doing his best to push it from his mind.

Promising himself he'd think about it later.

* * *

Leah stood outside the steakhouse on Michigan Avenue, unable to control the dominant urge to pace back and forth on the sidewalk. The night air was warm on her skin, but she could still feel the goose bumps crawling the length of her arms – the simmering just beneath her skin, a feeling she was all too familiar with. One that crept in every single time she felt like she was losing her hold on a situation.

A frustrated noise escaping her throat, Leah ignored the curious looks of those passing by her.

Letting out a breath, she swore silently to herself, hating how her body was responding to all of it. How she could feel her insides twisting –  _sinking_  – as she pulled out her phone and checked the time for probably the fifth time in less than two minutes.

Embry was late.

Granted, he wasn't  _that_  late, and normally, she wouldn't care. Leah was used to clients showing up whenever they felt like it, and it never fazed her when they did. She adjusted her schedule accordingly, went about her day, and learned to show up when they did.

This was different though. Embry wasn't a client. Embry wasn't  _business_.

She couldn't fight the rock sitting in her gut – a nagging, inherent feeling she knew all too well, but had never experienced like she was in that moment. A dread accompanying the thought that because he was late, that had to mean he wasn't coming at all.

Leah closed her eyes, crossing her arms tightly in front of her chest and swallowing the heaviness in her throat.

Unable to wonder if maybe he had decided it wasn't worth the trouble after all.

That  _she_  wasn't worth the trouble.

A long string of expletives wound against her tongue when she turned her back to the street, silently calling Embry – not to mention herself – every name in the book as she took a step away from the curb, missing the yellow taxi that pulled up to it the moment she did.

Fingers wrapping tightly against her phone, she had half a notion to call him and unleash those words she held just inside her mouth, but her self-deprecating thoughts were interrupted by the slam of a car door.

Instinctively turning around at the too-close noise, all the words evaporated on Leah's tongue. Lips parting in silent bewilderment, all the unease disappeared the moment her eyes fell on his familiar face.

Taking a bit of that insecurity with it.

"Sorry I'm late," Embry breathed hurriedly, offering Leah a warm and apologetic smile. "Quil called right before I was gonna leave, and well, you know..."

Taking another calming breath, Leah didn't have time to think about or question how much better she felt simply because he was  _there_. She let the corners of her mouth curl into her own knowing smile. "Still in love with the sound of his own voice?" she asked quietly.

Laughing, Embry crossed the last bit of distance between them, his sparkling gaze holding hers. "He only gets worse as we get older, I swear." He let his eyes drop, and she didn't miss it as he let them sweep over her frame, silently appraising the sleeveless red dress she wore. Allowing his eyes to travel over her bare legs before rising, lingering for a minute on the draped neckline of the garment before finding her eyes once again. "You look amazing."

Raising her eyebrows, Leah pursed her lips in mock indignation. "For a minute there, I thought it was gonna be all for me," she quipped.

Embry grinned, hitching his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans as he took a step back. "You haven't gotten rid of me yet..." he murmured smugly, the hint of arrogance in his tone unable to hide the kindness resting just behind it.

Leah smiled anyway, but inside, a part couldn't help but chastise herself for the thoughts leading up to Embry's arrival. For thinking he would walk away then, even considering everything that happened leading up to it. For not giving him more credit, even if a part of her still wasn't wired in a way that would allow her to trust him completely. Even if a part of her still felt she couldn't count on his promises.

But he was there – in front of her.  _Still_.

 _That_  counted for something.

"So...you ready to do this?" Leah questioned quietly, her gaze flicking toward the restaurant's entrance.

Without a word, Embry smiled and took another step, his eyes steady as hers were pulled downward. Noticing how he reached out to her, fingers spread and his palm waiting patiently. For her.

She wasn't sure how it happened but it did, her arm lifting without waiting for permission. Taking his hand, her fingers wrapped tightly around his.

Leah didn't miss the way he squeezed her hand as they walked into the restaurant. How he didn't speak a word. As he didn't overthink it or worry about what she would say. How he let it mean whatever she wanted it to.

So she let it settle between them as a silent guarantee, reassuring her he was still there. That he was next to her and didn't plan on leaving anytime soon.

In that moment, with the contact, she felt it again. The sense of security. A feeling of belonging. A warmth that didn't consume, instead winding deliriously slow through her veins, causing a small smile to form on her lips as Embry led her into the restaurant.

She held on tighter.

Once they passed through the restaurant's front foyer, a hostess with a brilliant smile pointed them to the correct table. Leah fell into step beside Embry, her hand still clasped against his.

"Okay, so they're here already," she said quietly, peering up at Embry the same moment he glanced down at her. "We're having dinner with two people...Wes Jones is one. He's the senior vice president of the firm, and the other is John Anderson. He's the vice president."

Embry made a noise in his throat, eyes straight ahead, but she could still see the corners of his mouth rise. "You weren't kidding when you said 'bosses', were you?"

"No," Leah confirmed swiftly. "They're gonna talk about business, more than likely, and probably ask a lot of questions about you. They'll sit there, drink their scotch, and congratulate themselves on being masters of the universe. And they'll probably talk baseball...always the Cubs. They love the fucking Cubs, so just..."

"Don't mention the Mariners?" Embry silenced her with another squeeze of his hand. Closing her mouth, she looked up at him again to see nothing but the same steady, subdued confidence in his eyes that always seemed to linger there. He chuckled when he noticed her watching him. "Leah...I've got this."

Smiling, Leah finally allowed herself to look forward, pulling in a deep breath. She shook her head in some kind of disbelief. "I know...sorry."

As they approached the table, Leah's gaze fixed on the two men she'd just told Embry about, both dressed in the same suits and ties she was used to seeing them in, despite it being a Saturday. Wes was a well-built man in his late forties. His features were strong and prominent, his presence both charismatic and demanding respect. John was his polar opposite. Tall and thin with wiry glasses held up by a long nose. Both men were involved in their own conversation, oblivious to the pair approaching the table.

Leah's heart pounded for some inexplicable reason. Swallowing once, she took a deep breath, remembering it was a part of her life she could still handle. Her job was still something she could do – something she was good at and something, even now, she could make no apologies for.

A larger part of her didn't want to, but she released Embry's hand the same time Wes' gaze turned, finding her with a confident and knowing smile.

"Miss Clearwater, happy you could make it," he said easily, his voice smooth and strong.

"Wes. John," Leah greeted them with a firm smile, nodding to each man in return, fingers gripping her clutch instead of Embry's hand.

"Leah, thanks for coming out tonight," John greeted, placing his glass on the table before standing. "We don't mean to interrupt your weekend, but we had a business matter to discuss with you that we thought warranted a Saturday dinner."

Keeping the smile on her face, Leah tried to think back to the week prior, searching for any indication her bosses had given her that would have pointed toward a "business matter" that required a weekend meeting. Her mind drifted to phone calls, emails, morning meetings, but still, her mind came up short.

_Unless..._

Leah's steady expression faltered for a split second, her thoughts accidentally landing on two nights earlier. To the bar she waited at. To the man who appeared by her side, reeking of designer cologne and expensive brandy...

 _Tony_.

For a moment, the realization stole the breath from her lungs, a part of her remembering her own thoughts that night. Remembering how she  _had_  thought about the consequences, if the right person had seen. If the right person had decided to say something. What it could mean for her and her career...

A violent shiver tore up Leah's spine the same moment she choked back the sickening knot rising in her throat. A sinking feeling of dread that could only be likened to the realization that maybe her past choices were finally catching up to the one part of her life she had managed to keep in tact through it all.

Blinking, allowing her to focus on the scene in front of her, she forced herself to smile anyway – to not jump to conclusions. To not expect the worst.

In the same moment, she felt Embry's hand press against the small of her back. Whether he meant to do it or not, it didn't matter. It was a silent push – the tiniest of comforts – helping her to pull in that last breath needed to find her voice.

"It's not a problem at all," she replied, her voice surprisingly sure of itself. She could still feel that blazing heat soaking through her dress. "Wes, John, this is my friend, Embry." Taking a step back, Leah watched Wes rise to his feet alongside John, waiting his turn as Embry stepped forward with a smile and a nod, firmly shaking the hands of both men. "I hope you don't mind that I brought a guest," Leah continued.

"Not at all," John affirmed, motioning to the two free chairs at the square table. "Please...have a seat."

Leah approached the empty chair closest to her, a part of her surprised when Embry followed, pulling it out for her as she slid lithely into it. As he pushed it in, Leah peered over her shoulder, met by his small smile and teasing eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered, so quietly she was certain Embry was the only person who heard the words.

As Embry moved next to her, lowering into his own chair, Leah situated herself, drawing in one final breath to calm the lingering apprehension she could feel in the pit of her stomach. When the waiter showed up, she watched Embry for an unnecessary amount of time when he ordered himself a beer and her a glass of red wine. She studied him silently, noticing how the confidence in his eyes had spread to the rest of him, his expression steady and posture comfortable, like it was a kind of life he was entirely used to living.

She still couldn't wrap her head around it – how he kept trying to tell her he hadn't changed, yet with every confident movement and steadfast expression, both meant for her and not, she continued to discover just how wrong he'd been. How much credit he refused to give himself.

Leah smiled, her eyes still lingering on Embry when Wes spoke, the words bringing her out of the haze she had inexplicably found herself in.

"So, Embry, are you from Chicago?"

Leah finally blinked when Embry shook his head. "No, sir."

"Where are you from?"

"Washington state."

"Which part?" Wes pressed, a curious smile occupying his mouth as he leaned back, one elbow propped lazily on his chair.

"La Push. It's a small reservation on the Olympic peninsula."

"That's terrific," Wes continued, reaching forward and retrieving his glass of scotch from the table. "So how do you and Leah known each other?"

Embry let his gaze drift toward Leah in that moment, a flash of remembrance racing through his eyes. To a similar question asked by Autumn a few days earlier, a part of him likely remembering how Leah had responded to it, another silently asking for permission.

Taking a deep breath, Leah smiled at him. Her own wordless reply.

"We grew up together," he continued, turning his gaze back to Leah's bosses, quietly thanking the waiter as his beer was placed in front of him. Leah did the same, reaching out automatically, her fingers curling around the wine glass – keeping them occupied – before bringing it to her lips.

Wes nodded. "Very interesting," he said. "What brings you to Chicago then?"

"Business," Embry replied swiftly before taking a pull off his beer bottle. "A couple friends and I own an auto repair business on the reservation, and I'm in town going through all the necessary steps to secure financing for a second location."

"Congratulations," John chimed in, lifting his glass slightly before taking a drink.

"Thank you, sir," Embry smiled, looking at Leah warmly. She could feel the tense knot unraveling in her stomach little by little, watching the exchange between a man she had known all her life and two who had helped launch her career. "It's very exciting."

"Indeed," Wes agreed. "Well, that's very nice that you and Leah were able to meet up while you were in town. And congratulations on the business venture. There's nothing quite as rewarding and fulfilling in life as new opportunities."

"Very true," Embry murmured genuinely, his unfaltering gaze remaining on the two men across the table.

"How many others are in business with you, if you don't mind me asking?" Wes questioned curiously, swirling the amber liquid around in his glass.

Embry leaned forward, forearms pressing into the table. "Well, the owner is a good friend of mine. He initially started in his garage at home before he decided to expand it and turn it into a legitimate business. There's one other partner besides me, and I'll be moving to the second shop to manage, which means my stake in the business will increase." Leah watched as Embry's smile widened, the same excitement spreading across his features, consuming them like it did each time he talked about the business.

"We're finally in a spot where we have the revenue to expand, so we're taking advantage of it," he continued. "Eventually, we want to start giving some of it back to our tribe. Someday, we'd really like to set up some kind special fund that can go toward things like scholarships, community betterment projects. Our hope is people...other businesses and organizations...will see that and start to contribute themselves, and it will just continue to grow from there."

John and Wes were nodding in agreement, both bearing pleased and impressed expressions.

But Leah wasn't watching them. Instead, her gaze was back on Embry, a smile lingering on her lips as he talked about another facet of the business he hadn't told her yet. Still, a part of her wasn't surprised, remembering the boys she grew up with. Remembering their fierce sense of pride in their tribe and their people, and how despite what life handed them, they always wanted to succeed. To do more.

And they had.

Leah blinked, freeing herself. Unable to discredit the overwhelming flash of sadness – a subtle regret – that wrapped itself around her insides. Still, she didn't look away when Embry caught her watching him.

She took a deep breath. "Sounds like all you need is the right marketing firm to make it happen," she murmured coyly, relishing in the way Embry's grin caused that warmth to once again bloom deep inside her, banishing everything else.

John and Wes both released hearty chuckles at Leah's response. "And that, Embry, is why she's one of the top performing account executives at our firm."

Embry only smiled, taking another drink of beer. "I can see why," he replied, casting a sideways glance at Leah. "She's always been like that. Stubborn, tenacious...which can be both good and bad, depending on which end of it you're on."

The men laughed again, and her gaze fell to her lap, masking the subtle redness she could feel flaming on her cheeks. A part of her weirdly mortified by the simple yet foreign reaction to Embry's words.

Still, she remembered to breathe, looking up and doing her best to make sure her face bore a mix of amusement and certainty.

"Her mom was holding a bake sale on the reservation once, and no one was signing up to participate," Embry pressed on. Leah glanced at him, somewhat awestruck by the captivated looks on the faces of her supervisors as Embry enthusiastically went into a story she had forgotten about over the years, but could suddenly feel coming back to her, resonating in some corner of her mind. The memory of it clear as day.

"Leah made it her mission to go door-to-door, somehow convincing people why they needed to participate. Telling them if they simply agreed to give a little, it would help out everyone in return..."

"How do you remember all this?" Leah interrupted, a chuckle escaping from her lips before she could think twice about it. "I was fifteen years old when I did that..."

Embry was silent for a moment, peering back at her with a soft glint in his eyes. "You came to my house. You talked to my mom about it, and I was there," he replied knowingly. "People noticed you then too, Leah...how once you got your mind set on doing something, there was no stopping you..."

Leah shook her head, still wondering how he could remember the smallest things she'd cast aside. "Well, that's how you get things done. How you make things better," she responded, leaning back in her chair and cocking one expectant eyebrow in Embry's direction. His smile refused to falter. "You can't expect results by sitting back and hoping they come to you."

Nodding amiably, Embry finally looked away, reaching out for his beer. Talking more to Wes and John than Leah in that moment. "You're right, but sometimes the best opportunities in life happen when you don't go looking." He took a drink of beer. "Sometimes they just find you."

Leah ignored the murmurs of agreement from her supervisors. Any words on her tongue dissolved as she stared at Embry, as he finally looked back to her. As he held her eyes for a few infinite moments.

She swallowed. "Like the second garage, right?"

Embry's shoulders rose and fell with a heavy breath, but he didn't release her eyes. "Sure, Leah...like the garage."

"Well, Embry," a throat clearing interrupted them, and Embry turned away long before Leah was ready for him to. She barely heard Wes chuckle in the background, his voice somehow the only thing managing to pull her away from the iron grip those ebony eyes held on every cell inside her. "If what you say about Leah is true, I can assure you not much has changed,"

"I'd imagine you're probably right." Embry relaxed into his chair. "Leah's brother will actually be joining us soon," he revealed, keeping his gaze on the others. "He's expressed a lot of interest in doing his part, and we're excited to bring him on board too."

Leah's eyes closed inherently, Embry's words from before forgotten for a split second. It was still there – that longing, the regret that came from hearing about her brother from a secondary source. That wild hope inside her that she would one day hear it from him, but the reality of it crippled by her own fear. Blocked by an obstacle she wasn't really ready to overcome...

_You can't expect results by sitting back and hoping they come to you..._

Leah pushed aside her own words, doing the best she could in that moment to keep all those feelings at bay.

Nodding, Wes took a deep breath, leaning back in his chair. Leah placed her wine glass on the table, looking up, realizing he was now watching her. "You must be very proud of him."

To her right, she could feel those fucking eyes on her again, but she ignored them, offering Wes the easiest smile she could muster. "I am."

"And he must be proud of you," Wes continued.

The empty feeling – the sensation of balancing precariously on the edge of a black hole she was all too familiar with – was a little harder to ignore.

Causing her to wish like hell that what she was going to say – somewhere, deep down – was the truth.

"I hope so," she murmured.

In the split second that followed, she looked up just in time to catch Embry staring at her. To see that reassurance in his eyes, another promise somewhere inside him and the smile on his mouth somehow easing the turmoil inside her. Somehow pulling her back just enough to lose sight of the blackness below. Just enough to let her know that maybe, just maybe, her words held more truth than she thought.

"I know we are definitely proud of you, Leah," Wes continued, pulling Leah's gaze away from Embry, causing her to take a deep breath and collect her bearings. "The things you've accomplished in your short time with our firm have been unprecedented for someone with your experience."

Forgetting about everything else for a moment, Leah managed to smile. "Thank you, Wes."

"It's true," John interrupted. "You've retained more clients this past year than any other account executive in your division, not to mention brought in more. Word of mouth is important, and the things you've done for Tony McIntire and his career have not gone unnoticed."

Leah's chest tightened, but she could feel her earlier apprehensions dissolving as she studied the reactions of the two men, as she ignored the appetizers being placed on the table and watched the expressions on their faces. Whatever reason they had for bringing her there, she could sense it was not for the one she had allowed herself to think.

"Which is why we asked you here tonight," Wes spoke again, continuing John's words. Leah couldn't explain why she held her breath as she watched a small, coy smile pull at the corner of his mouth. "We have a position opening at the end of next month...account supervisor."

Leah couldn't help the sharp intake of breath she drew between parted lips, sensing a similar reaction from the man to her right. She didn't dare look at Embry in that moment, focusing instead on Wes' crystal blue eyes watching her with expectance. Like she should have known what he was going to say. Like she should have expected it all along.

"And considering your performance and the things you've done for our company, Leah, we'd like to offer you the position. If you're interested, of course."

Leah stopped breathing altogether, the sound of the words falling from his lips still able to knock the breath from her lungs.

It was everything she wanted – everything she had worked toward. She could feel the adrenaline, an intense surge of excitement push through her veins as she chewed on the words for a few moments, digesting them. Letting them sink in. Knowing that six years of college and studying and then working her ass off had finally paid off.

That one more piece of the life she had wanted was falling into place.

_The life she wanted..._

She couldn't explain it, but the words she wanted to say – the ones that would solidify the interest they were hoping for – were stuck on her tongue, caught somewhere behind her surprised smile.

Wes raised his eyebrows, seizing an opportunity in her hesitance to say more. "It's a great move, Leah. You'd be managing a team of account executives. You'd get to direct them, the vision of the department, all of it. It's a huge step, but one we think you're more than ready for, not to mention more than capable of handling. It comes with a significant pay increase as well." His eyebrows lowered. "If you're interested, of course," he repeated.

Lips still parted in shock, Leah shook her head, remembering she had to speak and shaking her silence off with it. "No, that's...that's fantastic. Thank you. I'm speechless, actually," she finally pushed out, a nervous laugh tumbling out behind her words.

"We thought you'd be pleased," John said quietly, offering her a warm smile.

"I am," Leah reaffirmed, swallowing back the inexplicable thickness in her throat, "I'm more than pleased, it's just surprising. I never expected an offer like this so soon."

"We reward hard work," Wes replied with a wink, "but it's like Embry said...sometimes opportunities present themselves when you least expect it."

_Embry..._

Blinking, Leah's gaze snapped quickly toward the man on her right, her eyes immediately finding his. Embry's elbows leaned against the table, both hands clasped together, cheek resting against the closed fist they created. Watching her. For a split second, she listened to the sound of his heart. Thick, hard, steady beats. Anxious.

But each one was overshadowed by the softness of his face. The look of pride he wore on his features.

The pride he wore for  _her_.

Something she wasn't used to...

She looked back to Wes, everything inside her urging her to respond. The single word of acceptance sitting on the tip of her tongue.

"I don't know what to say," were the words she finally heard herself speak.

Wes nodded in understanding. "It's a big responsibility, and we completely understand if you want to take some time to think about it. We don't need an answer tonight."

"I appreciate that," Leah murmured, one hand curling around the napkin resting beside the appetizer plate that had appeared in front of her, a large part of her not understanding her hesitance.

John cleared his throat, once again demanding Leah's attention, refusing to give her more time to think on it. "Regardless, I think this night deserves a toast." His hand reached out, finding his glass as he lifted it with a smile. "To Embry's new business. And, Leah, to your future with our company."

Leah smiled in return, her eyes glancing to her right. Finding a pair of ebony ones already watching her. "To opportunities."

His smile – one mirroring the same pride she found in those eyes – caused a delirious warmth to creep through her veins. Filling her completely.

As he repeated her words, making it impossible to look away in that moment. Again.

"To opportunities."

* * *

"What a night..."

Tearing her gaze away from the city rushing by outside the taxi window, Leah looked at Embry, who was sitting to her left across the short distance separating them in the cab's back seat.

"You're telling me," she murmured, holding her clutch tighter against her lap as the taxi sped toward Embry's hotel.

The rest of dinner had gone well. The talk of her promotion had stopped at the toast, and the night continued without a hitch. Wes and John asked more questions about the garage back in La Push, their interest in Embry and his background more than apparent. The night had concluded with the trio of men sharing stats of both the Cubs and the Mariners, arguing goodnaturedly over the value of baseball pitchers over dessert.

Leah once again found time moving faster than she anticipated, both dinner and her company for the evening coming to an end.

She and Embry had agreed to split the cost of a cab and since they already were closer to the Park Hyatt, Embry was being dropped off first.

"I still think I'm shock," she replied. "This was what I was working toward, but I never in a million years thought it would be this soon."

"I don't blame you," Embry said quietly. Leah glanced up from her lap, meeting his reserved gaze. "But you're smart, and I'd be lying if I said it surprised me. You deserve this."

"Thanks," Leah muttered, a part of her wanting to change the subject. To not talk about the promotion, even if she couldn't begin to explain why. "I think they should hire you though. Talk about winning over a crowd."

Embry's gaze dropped, shaking his head and turning his cell phone between his fingers. "Nah. Those guys probably just aren't used to how us small town, rez folk do it."

Laughing, Leah leaned back against the headrest. "You know, I think I forgot what it's like to carry on a conversation and not have the person pull out a cell phone or make a call in the middle of it. They probably have, too."

Embry hesitated. "So...then it wasn't my sharp wit and unrivaled humor?"

Grinning, Leah let her head rock to the left, just in time to catch him offer her a wink. "You've done pretty well for yourself, Embry, all things considering. I think they saw that tonight. I know I did...again..." Taking a deep breath, she could feel it welling deep inside her. Something that closely resembled the look she had seen in his eyes earlier that night. "I know I haven't told you yet, but I'm proud of you. I mean it, all of you...Seth, Jake, Quil, even Paul."

She held her breath as Embry's smile lessened slightly, the playfulness in his eyes replaced by a layered intensity she couldn't describe.

Regardless – somehow – it managed to take away what little air she held in her lungs.

Blinking rapidly, Embry dropped his gaze, setting his phone on the seat between them. Rocking forward, he quietly asked the driver to stop at the nearest gas station. Peeking at her from where he was, Embry raised one eyebrow incredulously. "I'm gonna stop up here and get something to drink before we get to the hotel. Do you mind?"

Shaking her head, Leah offered him a small smile. "Of course not."

Seconds later, the taxi driver hung a sharp left, pulling into the gas station parking lot. Once the vehicle was stopped, he grinned at her before opening the door. "Be back in a few."

Leah took a deep breath as the door slammed behind him, the silence in the small cab enveloping her. She fiddled aimlessly with the hem of her dress, a part of her almost disappointed that he hadn't asked her to join him. She would have been lying if she said that same part of her hadn't wanted the night to last a little longer. That a part of her didn't want it to be over quite yet.

Even if he had asked her, she didn't know what to expect. She didn't know what she'd be expected to do, what they would talk about, how they would pass the time. All of it still seemed new. Foreign, even if that night had been one more step and she couldn't help but think maybe an invitation like that would be one more, too.

Still, steps and words and what to do didn't matter because she did know one thing in a sea of other unknowns.

She was enjoying Embry's company. The dinner they had the night before, the one they had that night. She had enjoyed it all, despite some words that were said. Despite topics that were broached. Despite new opportunities commanding her attention.

With him around, things seemed easier. Things seemed lighter.

Once again reassuring her that maybe – truly – she was no longer doing this on her own.

Leah was smiling when a sharp, punctuated noise pierced through the quiet vehicle. Brow creasing in confusion, the source of the noise pulled Leah's gaze downward. Toward the seat just next to her hip.

Her eyes landed on Embry's forgotten cell phone, sweeping quickly over its illuminated surface, ears registering it as the source of the single noise.

Every part of her ceased to move, breath catching in her lungs, when she saw the name at the head of the text message displayed on the screen.

_Seth..._

She should have known better. She should have stopped the moment she reached out, fingers trembling inexplicably as they drew closer to the device. As better sense disappeared the moment her hand curled around the phone, lifting it from its resting place and bringing it closer to her.

Somewhere inside her was a distant voice screaming at her to stop, but she couldn't. It didn't matter that it was none of her business. It didn't matter that it was Embry's phone. She couldn't find it in herself to care, a larger part of her just wanting to know... _anything_  about her brother. How he was. What he was doing.

Thinking maybe the words on the screen would make everything just a tiny bit easier.

Thinking maybe this was an opportunity she shouldn't miss.

Leah held her breath, clutching the phone tightly as she let her eyes sweep over a message that wasn't meant for her.

As she felt her stomach sink to some place deep inside her body...

_Hey, man. Just letting you know Grace and me set a wedding date. You're gonna be in it so keep the last weekend of the month free..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Huge wolfy hugs for everyone who's reviewed over the last few weeks. Will be making rounds this week to circle back to all of you individually to say thanks. :)
> 
> ANYWAY...thoughts on this chapter? Predictions? Can't wait to hear them!


	12. Focus

_**Suggested Listening: "Come By Fire" by Sara Jackson-Holman, "Please Don't Find Me" by Civil Twilight, "Another Life to Lose" by Greg Laswell, "And The World Was Gone" by Snow Ghosts, _ ** _ **"Shallows" by Daughter,**_**_  "Love Like This (Acoustic)" by Kodaline** _

She wanted it back.

The feeling of ease – the strange sense of hope, of  _happiness_  she'd felt only minutes earlier.

_She wanted it back._

Because what Leah was feeling in that moment was nothing like that. Her chest tight and fingers wrapped unforgivingly around Embry's phone, the words on the screen were burned in the back of her mind. Reminding her there was nothing easy about it – her life, the person she was trying to find. There was nothing  _happy_  about it.

It felt too familiar.

It felt like  _before_.

Leah had to stop herself from putting any more pressure on the phone, the restraint physically painful as her hand threatened to break it into a million pieces.

She let it go instead, each finger unwrapping slowly before the phone fell to the seat, forgotten. It didn't matter though because the edge of that black hole she was dancing on earlier was now somewhere above her and she could feel herself crawling – grasping – at the sides. Trying like hell not to let it swallow her whole, but still able to feel gravity winning out. To feel everything crashing back down on her.

Sucking her in.

Because the text message wasn't sent to her.

There was no missed call on her phone, no voicemail bearing her brother's voice. Not that she could blame him – she'd burned that bridge long ago through her own inaction, her own inability to pick up a phone and tie together the frayed ends of the relationship she and her brother once had.

But the smoke from the damage that always rose somewhere in the distance was now an excruciating fire swallowing her whole.

And no one had thought to tell her. No one had  _warned_  her. No one had thought to share such a huge happening in her brother's life.

Not Seth.

_Not even..._

Leah's heart pounded, one hand curling into a fist as she brought her to mouth. She let her gaze travel slowly toward the door of the gas station as it swung open and Embry strode out, unaware of anything that was wrong, pushing one hand into his pocket while the other grasped a six-pack of beer.

Leah's fingers shook as she stretched them, thinking better of it as they curled back into a fist. The frustration directed at him – the anger – burned her insides, despite the deep breaths she pulled between parted lips. She felt each blazing exhale fan across her knuckles the moment the door to her left opened and Embry's lithe frame slipped into the backseat.

"Sorry. Figured I'd get something to drink for when I got back to the hotel..."

Leah closed her eyes, his voice somewhere in the distance despite the mere inches separating them. Her head turned toward the window without waiting for permission the moment his gaze traveled to the seat between them. She held her breath when she heard his hand drop, picking up the discarded cell phone.

He didn't speak a word. He didn't say a thing as the taxi pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the street, and Leah couldn't ignore the sickening feeling rising in her throat, her own silence choking her.

All of it reassuring her why she had always ran. Why she always refused to stop and look around at her life.

She always knew that when she did, something would happen.  _Something_  would come along to remind her that maybe she'd done the right thing by continuing to run. By not stopping to look around.

Leah just never thought something as simple as a text message – a message to a person she had let in,  _somehow_ , even though he wasn't supposed to be in her life in the first place – would be the thing to do it.

But it  _was_  enough.

Reaffirming what she already knew by unforgivingly slapping her across the face with just how much she had missed. By putting words to it. Definitive proof she couldn't ignore.

Showing her just how badly she fucked up by letting so much time pass.

Unfailingly reminding her just how much her family had moved forward without her.

An affirmation that everyone's lives were just fine without her...

Embry was saying something else, but by that point, Leah wasn't really listening. Still, she somehow allowed her head to turn. For her dark, conflicted eyes to find his across the narrow seat. For her stomach to clench at the site of his smile.

It was in that moment she realized just how much she'd trusted him. Not fully, but enough for it to matter. She realized just how much she had  _counted_  on Embry, despite the miniscule amount of time that had passed.

And he'd already let her down.

He hadn't told her, even though he  _had_  to have known.

And it didn't matter that the divide between her and her family was mostly her fault. She felt blindsided, and couldn't push back the nagging feeling that he should have  _told her_.

As the taxi sped toward the hotel, she turned away, still unable to speak. She had half a notion to jump from it at the next stoplight and leave Embry behind, but she ruled that out quickly, remembering his words. His promise to her that he wasn't going anywhere. His refusal to walk away.

Leah knew it would do no good because he knew too much – where to look, where to find her. How to scale those walls she could already feel cementing back in place.

Running from him was no longer an option, even if a part of her – one still buried deep down – tossed the idea before she filtered through all the reasons why in her head.

She'd have to do things the way she used to.

She'd have to confront him, even if she had no idea why or what purpose it would serve. What she wanted to accomplish or gain by doing it. Leah just knew she needed to say something, because the clawing, debilitating ache in her gut was only getting worse. The regret – the anger – only grew heavier as the hotel grew closer. As each building came and went through the taxi window.

Her hand was wrapped around the door handle by the time the cab pulled to a stop outside the hotel's main entrance. Pulling in a deep breath and holding it, Leah's grip tightened as she turned her head slightly to look at Embry, only to find him already watching her, an expectant yet hesitant expression plaguing his features.

Either he knew something was wrong, or was preparing to ask her a question he didn't know the answer to.

Breath leaving her in a rush, she shook her head, not waiting for him to speak as she pulled the handle. The door opened easily, allowing her to exit the car before he had a chance to say the words resting on his lips. Squaring her shoulders and reminding herself to be steady, Leah didn't look back. She didn't wait for confirmation or to see if Embry would protest. Instead, she gripped her clutch tighter in her hands and listened to the clicking of her heels on the pavement as she purposefully made her way toward the door, the noise keeping time with her thrumming heart.

A door slammed behind her and it wasn't long before Leah heard the soft footfalls on the pavement behind her. It wasn't long before that heat was once again reaching out for her, just in time for her to push the glass doors open and the smell of expensive leather and harsh cleaners to filter into her nostrils.

But it wasn't until she reached the elevators that Embry was finally able to catch up. Her fingers digging into the material of her clutch, he cleared his throat from beside her.

"So, uh...I take it you want to come up?"

Leah swallowed, but refused to move her eyes from the descending numbers on the wall, indicating which floor the elevator had reached. She forced herself to nod. "I figured we still had a lot to talk about..."

She couldn't ignore the slight, irritated tone laced through her words, or the swift rush of air that left Embry's body when she spoke them.

"Okay..."

He didn't speak another word, even after the elevator arrived. Leah didn't follow him to the back of it, instead turning and roughly pushing the button that would take them to Embry's floor. Crossing her arms tightly in front of her, she closed her eyes, listening to the thick silence enveloping them. Unable to hear anything except the soft hum of the elevator and the strained, erratic rhythm of her own pulse throbbing in her ears.

Until she heard Embry's. A rhythm that matched her own.

He was anxious, and it did little to soothe the war already unfolding inside Leah. Instead, it only exacerbated it, reminding her once again how much she hated feeling that way.

It was enough to take a step back, her eyes closing inherently as she fought to draw the breath into her lungs. The silence bringing it all to the front. Forcing her to remember...

Seth.

Seth's  _wedding_.

_Grace..._

It was excruciating, the ache in the center of her chest. The knowledge that her brother was marrying a girl she had never met. One whose  _name_  she had only just learned. She hadn't counted on it hurting as fucking bad as it did, but it didn't matter. It was crippling, trying to imagine the person he was now. All the scenarios ran through her head – who he was spending the rest of his life with. If she was kind and strong. If she was a woman worthy of Seth and his gentle heart...

It didn't matter because it was too late. He was marrying her, and Leah had no say in it.

_And Embry had known._

She wanted to hate him all over again. She wanted to tell him to leave and never come back. She wanted him to take his phone and his text messages and the reminders of everything she left behind and just fucking go back to La Push like she'd asked him to so many times.

But it hadn't worked before, and she had no idea how it would this time either.

Still, she told herself she had every fucking right to be angry with him.

If she would have known about it, she could have...

_She could have..._

The elevator doors to Embry's floor opened swiftly in front of her, interrupting Leah's thoughts. The walk to his room was harrowing and long. Leah managed to hang back, watching Embry's frame move, following his hand with her gaze when it dipped into his pocket to find his key card. Not missing how he hesitated for a single moment outside the door before he peered back at her with a soft smile, almost like he was trying to comfort her even though he didn't have the slightest clue what was going on just below her steadfast surface.

Embry walked into the room first, but Leah lingered behind, slowly pushing the door closed against the weight of her body. She tried to push away the thoughts of what happened the last time she was there. Tried to forget what he had done for her. She swore silently to herself when her eyes drifted to Embry's silhouette in the darkness. Barely noticing when he shrugged out of his jacket and his fingers moved to the buttons of his dress shirt. Instead, her stare moved to the bed just beyond him, the sight of it not allowing her to erase what happened. As she remembered the way it was like to be there...with him. How much it had meant to her.

How safe she had felt...

Her stomach wrenched, giving birth to a shudder as Leah let her head fall back against the door. She could feel her breath catching in her throat, that anger – a misplaced betrayal she couldn't help but feel – clawing its way toward her mouth. Aching to come out in strands of venomous words, directed at one person and one person only.

Wanting him to know that what little faith she had inside her she'd given to him to care for the moment she came back. The moment he found her outside his door.

And how much it fucking hurt that he'd already taken it for granted...

Leah could suddenly feel her frame push off the door, her hands curling into fists at her sides. She could feel the blazing heat simmering just below her skin as it redirected, rushing to her legs.

Begging her to move...

But she waited. She waited a moment, her eyes fixed on Embry as he switched on the small lamp next to the bed, bathing the room in a soft, yellow glow. Long enough for him to look at her. For Leah to see the expression in his eyes. A look of concession. A look of apprehensive defeat.

A look of guilt, even if she only imagined it.

It was enough.

As soon as Embry straightened, Leah's body moved, dropping her clutch on the floor and closing the distance between them faster than even she could comprehend. Her head was swimming but she didn't think twice, her limbs moving without waiting for permission.

She wasn't sure how it happened, but before she could blink – before Embry could move – she had a fistful of his shirt in one hand and the other arm pressed against his chest. Before she could tell herself she would get nowhere this way, she drew on every ounce of dormant strength in her body to push him roughly against the wall and keep him there.

"You son of a bitch," she growled, ignoring the frozen shock in Embry's eyes, one she could see clearly between his rapid blinks, as the rest of him struggled to catch up to what Leah was doing. She ignored it all, including the fact he had made it too easy. For her to approach him. For her to hold him there.

"Leah..." he murmured quietly, swallowing thickly before twisting against her hold.

"Shut up," she cut him off, the air leaving her in anxious gasps. Bracing her feet on the floor, she pushed one last time just to make sure he wasn't going anywhere. To keep him beneath her restraint. "Just...shut up. You..." She refused to look at him, instead fixing her stare on a point on the wall just beside her head. She couldn't look in his eyes. It would ruin everything.

But she did it anyway.

Because she wanted to see if she was right. If she was justified in feeling the way she did,

But the resignation – the apology and knowledge in his gaze, mixed with the same fucking kindness she always saw – was enough to make Leah pause. It combined with all the warring thoughts in her head, causing everything inside her to explode into a messy haze of red. To make her forget why he was standing in front of her, and why she wanted him to go away. To make her fingers loosen her grip on his shirt just slightly, even though she was still struggling to breathe. To contain the adrenaline that fueled the steps taking her to where she was, and to soothe her shaking fingers and every cell in her body desperately seeking release.

To make her reconsider where she was placing the blame.

But it was not enough to make her forget words on a cell phone.

_Not enough to forget..._

She wanted  _Embry_  to say it. To tell her, but in that moment, she realized she was nowhere near ready for it.

And she wasn't sure she ever would be.

Suddenly, she released Embry, pushing back with so much force she nearly stumbled. A frustrated cry slipped past her parted lips. Still, she closed her eyes, shaking her head wildly. Trying to find the words –  _any_  words – to say to him.

"This is why..." she whispered, the only three she could find nearly getting lost in the small room.

Leah opened her eyes, barely managing to swallow past the thick knot in her throat. Embry was already watching cautiously, worry written all over his features, shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths.

He took a step toward her. She couldn't move.

"You saw the text, didn't you?"

Wincing, Leah's gaze fell, hands curling into fists at her sides. Trying fruitlessly to stop the tremors rolling from her fingers. To stop the paralyzing feeling of defeat inside her. "This is why..." she pushed out through clenched teeth, " I kept running."

"Leah..." He spoke her name again, and she heard him take another step, even though she refused to look away from the spot of carpet on which her eyes rested. "It'll be okay..."

The words seemed cheap, easier for Embry to speak than for Leah to believe. She shook her head, eyes snapping toward him, causing his footsteps to stop.

"How can you tell me that?" she exclaimed despondently, lips parting in dismay. "My brother's getting married, Embry. He's getting  _married_  and everyone just  _forgot_  to tell me. How can you hear me say that and still tell me things will be  _okay_?"

The defeated look on Embry's face clawed at something inside her. Leah's stomach twisted, knowing even before he spoke that he wouldn't have a good answer for her. That there was nothing he could say to convince her that's how she should have found out.

He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. "I should have told you," he admitted quietly.

Leah scoffed, bringing her hand up and rubbing one searing eye with the back of it. "Then why didn't you?" she demanded coldly.

Embry took another step toward her, but she countered it, backing away. Ignoring the look of pain on his face the moment she did. He needed to answer her before she would let him get close again. She needed to hear his explanation.

Eyes fixed on her, Embry refused to move.

"Because it wasn't my place."

Leah grimaced, the words definitely not what she wanted to hear, causing the ache in her gut to flare. "It  _was_  your place, Embry," she pressed on, feeling the edge of the bed against the back of her knees. "You wanted me to stop. You wanted things to be different. You wanted to  _be here_  for me and help me get my shit together, and I let you...so why didn't you tell me?"

Embry drew in a sharp breath, taking two quick steps before Leah could react. Still, there was nowhere she could go, trapped by the bed. Something so simple refusing to let her keep her distance.

"Because I wanted Seth to be the one who told you."

His words were vehement. Unwavering.

They were exactly what Leah expected he would say.

And as much as she wanted to hate him – as much as she wanted to blame him for all of it and for not telling her – the words, laced with a noble intent she should have expected, registered somewhere inside her as truth, clearing some of the haze in her mind. Taking her right back to her thoughts in the taxi on the way there.

Reminding her this wasn't his fault.

It was  _hers_.

Knees suddenly weak, Leah couldn't help it as she sank to the edge of the bed, releasing a ragged breath as she felt the mattress give way beneath her weight.

"This isn't how I wanted you to find out," Embry whispered, his voice closer than it was before. She could feel him, standing just in front of her. "Not from me, Leah...I didn't want you to find out from me. I told Seth to call you. I wanted him to be the one to do it."

Leah swallowed, palms curling around her thighs, lungs holding the breath she drew between dry lips. "What makes you think he was going to?" She turned wide eyes toward him, Embry's dark gaze already on her. "Do you know how long it's been since I've talked to him?"

He looked away, and Leah knew he didn't have a clue.

The words felt like acid on her tongue, but for some reason, she kept them in her mouth. For some reason, she needed to ask something else, the marriage and the girl's name running on repeat in her head. Another part of her needing to know if maybe the reason Seth hadn't told her had something more to do with the very thing that started her life down such a destructive path in the first place.

She swallowed, pushing the question out with every bit of strength she had inside her.

"Is she his imprint?"

She didn't look up but suddenly Embry was kneeling in front of her, those eyes catching hers once again. "Leah..."

Ignoring the throbbing in her chest, she held his gaze. "You have to tell me," she insisted, her voice cracking beneath the difficulty of the words. She ignored it when Embry winced, his hand lifting slightly from his knee. Wanting to reach for her.

"You can't keep things from me," Leah continued. "You're here...and you  _can't_. I need to hear it. All of it...even if you think it'll kill me."

She refused to look away, wildly searching for the answer in Embry's eyes before he even spoke the words. Feeling the aftermath of what he would say as his lips parted to speak the words she'd asked for.

"She is..."

Leah's stomach wrenched, and it suddenly made sense. It suddenly made things a little more clear, even if she didn't know for sure. A larger part of her hated it – that her brother never had a choice in who he got to love. That there was always a chance it might have cost them both so much. That maybe there was someone like Leah in the shadows, that had lost entirely too much because of it.

Regardless, she held onto it. Hoping that was the reason Seth hadn't told her.

That maybe he didn't want to hurt her more.

Even if, in that moment, the reality of it didn't make it hurt any less.

"Tell me about her..."

Embry sighed. "Leah..."

"Tell me about her," she repeated, interrupting him. Ignoring the searing moisture she could feel on her cheek. "I want to know. You have to tell me. You owe me that much."

Embry took a deep, ragged breath. Conceding to her words.

"She's the same age as Seth," he murmured softly. "She's actually Kim's cousin. She was from Neah Bay originally, a Makah...like my mom. She's smart, Leah, and kind. She actually just finished school in Seattle. She's a teacher...and they hired her at the rez school, and she's gonna be teaching kindergarten and first grade."

Leah held her breath, hanging onto every word even when Embry paused, a smile pulling at his lips. "She's pretty soft-spoken, kind of like Seth, and it's entirely too easy to pick on her. Something Quil and Paul take advantage of...a lot...but Seth doesn't usually let them get away with it."

Leah swallowed, a part of her needing to ask. A part of her feeling like she could rely on Embry's answer.

"Do you think she deserves him?"

Embry's smile returned, his eyes softening. "She loves him, and he loves her...and so do we. So yeah, I think she does."

Finally releasing the air in her lungs, Leah leaned forward. All his words – everything he knew that she didn't and the fact she had to take his word for it – had her fighting the urge to double over. To bury her head in her hands and not face what was in front of her. "God, this is so fucked up."

"What is, Leah?"

"All of it!" she exclaimed. Her head lifted, a frustrated expression twisting her features as she glared at Embry. "All of  _me_. I just...I should know all this, but...I don't, and I hate it. I hate that she probably doesn't have a fucking clue who I am."

"She knows."

Leah blinked, still watching Embry's unfaltering expression. "But how much?"

Embry's shoulders squared, buying him a moment before he had to answer. "She knows who you are, and she wants you there, Leah...at the wedding."

Grimacing, Leah shook her head, roughly rubbing her face with her hands. "Only because she doesn't know...because Seth probably didn't tell her. None of you guys probably did...why I'm not around. Where the scars on Emily's face came from..."

"No...she wants you there because you're Seth's sister and he loves you."

"You sound awful sure of that..." She couldn't help it, her hopes from earlier overshadowed by the reality of it. By the  _uncertainty_  of it. How there was no way she could know for sure...not until she talked to him.

And even though she knew what to do – how she could start to fix it – a part of her was too paralyzed to admit it. A part of her was too afraid of what would happen if she tried.

"Because I  _am_ ," Embry replied steadfastly, answering her. One hand finally came up to rest on her knee, the heat from it a stark contrast to the cold she felt inside. "I meant it when I said I told him to call you, and I think he will. But even so, what's to stop you from calling him first?"

"He doesn't want to hear from me..." The words were ingrained in her, a belief she had taught herself was truth. But hearing herself say it, she couldn't help but question it.

"How do you know?"

"Because he hasn't spoken to me in over a year, Embry!" Leah couldn't help it as she rose to her feet, taking a purposeful step away from him. Letting the words from earlier finally spill out. Embry followed her, but she turned her back to him, unable to take any more.

"And it's fucking killed me...every damn day, it's killed me, and I don't know how to fucking fix it," she cried, her voice rising. "I pick up the phone and I just stare it because I don't know what to say. I don't know how to make things better...any of it. And I don't think I could handle it if he didn't answer...or if he did and then refused to talk to me. I just...I  _can't._ "

Embry took a breath, moving behind her. "What did you say at dinner tonight, Leah? About opportunities?"

Leah closed her eyes.

_You can't expect results by sitting back and hoping they come to you..._

But her own advice suddenly didn't seem so easy, even if it was something that got her through the last six years on her own.

"I don't think I can fix this, Embry," she whispered, opening her eyes and turning to face him. Her life and everything she'd broken along the way all she needed to back up her up. How her attempt to fix things had, in fact, only made them worse.

Despite the fact she desperately wanted to believe this was something she  _could_  fix.

But how could she when something as simple as a text message had almost unhinged her completely? How could she face what she left behind and mend so many broken bridges when she'd barely started fixing herself? How could she not lose her fucking mind in the process?

_She couldn't..._

But the way Embry was watching her, it was clear he thought she could.

Leah shook her head wildly, tearing her eyes from his. Feeling like she had to say it. "And even if I can, he'll want me there. He'll want me at the wedding and I don't think I can do it. I don't think I can go back...and face everyone else."

"Leah..." Embry took a step forward. "Believe me when I tell you that you  _can_. That it might be okay..." He paused, searching her eyes to make sure she was really listening. "And that you won't be alone if you do. You won't be in it by yourself."

"I don't think I can," she repeated robotically, heart still pounding as she trained her gaze on the floor just next to Embry's feet. "Not yet. Not this soon...I'm not ready."

"I know," he murmured, "but this should count for something." By that point, he was only inches from her, reaching up. His hands hesitating for a moment, making sure she wouldn't pull away. She held his eyes, refusing to move. Something inside her forbidding it.

He took her face between his hands, tipping her head up. Making sure she watched. Making sure she was listening.

Leah held her breath.

"You're still  _here_ , Leah," he pressed on quietly. "Talking about it, even after all this. You didn't run. And that means something. Even if it doesn't mean anything to you, and even though it should, it means something to me."

Leah closed her eyes, letting the words register somewhere inside her, mixing with the warmth of his hands on her skin. Letting the truth of each one soak in. Knowing that a week earlier, she wouldn't have been standing there, facing it. Giving her demons a voice. Knowing she would have been long gone. Still hiding, without a second thought.

Behind closed eyelids, she realized Embry was right. That even if he hadn't told her, somehow, he'd helped give her the strength to get through it. To make her pause, to think before fleeing.

Knowing he'd be there if she tried to...

Or maybe she was simply stronger than she realized.

Maybe it was something she  _could_  do...eventually...even if she spent years convincing herself otherwise.

But in that moment, it still seemed like too much. Too big. Too daunting. Too impossible to get rid of that last shred of sickening defeat, the one that seemed to hold her back from facing everything she left behind. That feeling of worthlessness that was so imperviously hard to shed.

She found herself leaning forward, hands lifting, pressing against Embry's chest. Feeling his heartbeat beneath her fingers.

"Maybe to you," she whispered, "but would it mean something to the others? Am I worth it to anyone else? The pack? My family?" She closed her eyes, shaking her head at her inability to get out of her own way. "What's the point in trying to fix it? To put myself back in that life when everyone...you, Seth, Sam...you're all different now. You've all done fine without me..."

Embry's hand moved tentatively, thick fingers gently tracing the curve of her jaw. Urging her to look at him.

"We're better with you around, Leah," he responded, his voice thick with truth and conviction. "We always have been."

Fingers curling into this shirt, Leah blinked back the scalding moisture in her eyes, trying to push down the sudden raw vulnerability she felt. The need she couldn't ignore and how she was hanging onto Embry with everything inside her, wanting to take what he said at face value, but another part of her needing more.

"Tell me why I'm supposed to believe you..."

The corner of Embry's mouth lifted, his small, unconcerned smile reassuring her in its own way.

"You don't have to believe me," he admitted, "but there's really only one way for you to find out. You'll have to see for yourself, but in the meantime, I'm still here...standing in front of you. Telling you it's not just them, Leah." He paused, dipping his head slightly. Coming close enough she could feel his warm breath on her lips. "They're not the only ones who are better when you're around."

She felt each word – the confidence behind them. The warmth, traveling to the very center of her body and grabbing hold of her. Refusing to let her doubt – any other proof she needed tangible in the ebony eyes, watching her with the same assurance, just as they had days earlier when she'd been on the cusp of losing herself completely.

Leah blinked, her eyes lowering. Landing on his mouth. The curve of his lips. Wondering if it would feel like the last time...

Her hands gripped him tighter.

"And the others?" Embry spoke, causing her concentration to falter. His voice lifting her eyes. "You'll see it...eventually, but don't think about that. Not right now. You don't have to go home...not yet. Not until you're ready.

His words were steady, a reminder to take it one step at a time. To simply be there and let the rest of it come.

Leah's eyes lowered again.

"Look at me." His voice was barely audible, but she heard every word. She felt his finger beneath her chin, lifting her face toward him. Holding her with those eyes in a way no one else before had been able to.

"Just focus on this. Focus on today. Focus on  _me_ , Leah. Do  _this_."

Staring into those eyes, she felt it again as the warmth turned into something more. That same sensation that crept through her body when he pressed against her on the dance floor at the concert. It was the same warmth she felt when his lips captured hers – in a kitchen so many years before, in hers just days earlier. The way his hands moved over her skin, his frame resting prominently between her legs. His mouth moving against hers in the bathroom at her bar, a gesture to secure a promise. To make his point. To show her he meant everything he said.

It was the same safety that consumed her when he held her in his bed, his body wrapped around her. When he pulled her into his arms outside his door, hands splayed across her back. Holding her. Refusing to let go.

It was a feeling she'd been void of for nearly six years.

But even then, in that moment, it was still different.

It was something entirely new.

It all combined, mixing with the words he'd said. She didn't want him to move. She didn't want him to go anywhere. He  _hadn't_  let her down.

He'd pulled her back. Again.

And she was filled...with  _hope_. With a strange sense of certainty. With a desire to pull him to  _her_. To hold him closer. To believe every word he ever said to her.

With a consuming need to trust him, desperately wanting to show him even if she didn't know how. Not yet. Not completely.

But something shifted before she got the chance.

Embry pulled back slightly, the dim light from the lamp behind him dancing across his undoubting expression. Leah's eyes grazed over his features, and she could see him swallow thickly, his ebony eyes contemplative but still so certain. Slowly, his hands dropped from her face, traveling to her shoulders. Mapping out a path along her flesh until they reached her elbows, one hand tightening its hold on her. Urging her to turn around.

"One step at a time," he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. "Do  _this_..."

And even though she refused to close her eyes – even though she didn't want to look away – she did the moment she felt her body turn. When she found herself facing the bed, eyelids fluttering open, her gaze fixed on some unknown point on the other side of the terrace door glass. Both arms stiff at her sides, Leah held her breath, unsure of what was happening but knowing it wouldn't matter.

Because  _this_  she could do.

 _This_ , she wanted. Whatever it was.

A part of her wondered...what it would feel like. What it would mean if pretense and ulterior motives were stripped away.

She closed her eyes again, the moment she felt Embry's overwhelming presence directly behind her, the second that heat reached out and wrapped itself around her. She let her fingers slowly curl into fists, unfurling a moment later when Embry's breath washed across her neck, causing a slow, deep shiver to erupt across her flesh.

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Leah reminded herself to breathe just before his warm hands brushed across the smooth, copper flesh of her shoulders.

_Focus on this..._

The thought taking everything from before with it.

Leah's inhales were deep – her exhales quietly labored – as Embry ran the tips of his fingers down the long, slender length of her arms. Taking his time. Drawing it out before she felt each one at her wrists. Before the fingers of his left hand laced through hers and the other rested softly on the underside of her wrist, coaxing it up. Urging her arm to rise beneath the gentle coercion.

Listening to the way he moved, Leah stretched her arm out beside her, Embry's mimicking the action. He brushed his fingers over hers, traveling over her knuckles to her fingertips and back again. Rendering her helpless as each tiny movement paralyzed her. As they forbid her to move just before he took that hand in his as well.

Eyes still closed, what breath she held in her lungs rapidly spilled out when she felt Embry gently press his lips to the spot where her neck met her shoulder. As his soft, warm mouth lingered there, sealing a silent promise into her skin. Savoring the taste of her before he moved, leaving another kiss on her flesh as his lips traveled farther from where he started.

Leah's body shook, and she found herself leaning into him, her back pressing gently against his chest. The fire inside her continued to burn, the flames growing as she never lost track of where he was, his lips still brushing along her skin. Traveling down her arm, his mouth not missing a single spot as warm breath spilled over sensitive skin.

When he reached her hand, Leah opened her eyes, turning her head slightly. She could only watch as Embry's fingers wrapped tighter around hers. As he gently bent her arm, lifting her hand. Bringing it to his lips, hesitating for a single moment before pressing them to the back of her fingers. Pulling it away only to repeat the movement, leaving his mark on each of her knuckles.

She wanted to move. She wanted  _more_ , but not a single part of her would listen.

Not a single part of her wanted him to stop.

So she stayed where she was, her eyes unable to follow Embry when he slowly lowered her hand to her side. As he moved behind her once again, her breath catching when his hands reappeared on her shoulders. As he pushed her hair to one side, delicately sweeping it over her shoulder. Leah's body ached with the desire to move, but still, she remained where she was. Following each restrained exhale, each movement of his fingers as they came to a rest on the small zipper of her dress.

Leah closed her eyes, a part of her suddenly not sure if she wanted things to go that far. A part of her wondering if she allowed it to happen, whether or not he would still be there when it was all over.

But when she felt those smooth, warm lips on the back of her neck, lingering – breathing her in – she released her own. Pushing out the uncertainty with it. Hanging onto the warmth she felt.

Surrendering control...

Putting it all in Embry's hands, at least for that moment.

 _Trusting him_ , as much as she could.

She stood completely still when deft hands pushed the straps of the dress from her shoulders. As she relaxed her arms and let the fabric fall, lifting her arms just slightly to allow Embry to remove it the rest of the way, revealing the bare, copper flesh beneath. The dress pooling at her feet as it hit the floor in one whispered movement.

Bringing one hand up, it took Leah only a moment to realize her fingers were trembling, letting the tips graze her stomach. She waited, everything inside her on fire as Embry closed the small distance between them, one arm reaching around her. His hand covering hers as he brushed his nose along her exposed neck, inhaling deeply. Releasing the breath through his lips, the warmth of it causing a visceral shudder to tear up Leah's spine.

One arm moved, disconnecting from the rest of her body as it reached behind her. As her fingers found him, weaving through the hair at the nape of his neck. As she was finally able to move the rest of her body, turning her head just slightly.

Catching Embry's eyes, Leah found all the permission she needed – all the reassurance – as she tightened her hold on him. As she pulled him toward her, inhaling sharply the moment his mouth covered hers with a startling need. An intensity that left her breathless.

She twisted in his arms, turning to face him, lips never leaving his as they moved familiarly against hers. Wrapping her arms around his neck, large hands burned against her waist. Possessing her as the traveled her burning skin.

She pulled, an inherent part of her still wanting more, fighting to breathe when his tongue swept across her bottom lip. As she parted hers, giving him permission. Deepening the kiss as his hands splayed across her back, holding her tightly against him.

Leah was losing herself in it, never losing track of where Embry was. How his mouth moved against hers. How his heart was pounding, matching her own. How his hands moved down, tightening their grip on her thighs just before she felt her feet leave the ground.

Holding on impossibly tighter, Leah pulled away slightly, taking Embry's bottom lip between her teeth. Trembling at the subtle growl it elicited deep in his chest. Recapturing his mouth with hers as he moved. Never separating from him, even when she felt the jarring coolness of a comforter against her flushed skin. Even when Embry was suddenly hovering over her, one hand brushing tenderly against her cheek.

So many times before it felt wrong. So many times before, it didn't feel good.

But in that moment, it was different. In that moment, he reminded her once again why he wasn't like the others.

As Embry's hard, eager body pressed into hers – as Leah's thighs hitched around his hips – she didn't feel any of those things. It was all missing. The dread. The helplessness. The anger. The crippling emptiness.

She didn't feel  _any_  of those things.

And she wanted more, for reasons entirely different than she was used to it, even if she didn't know why.

All Leah knew was she didn't want him to stop.

Which is why the cool air washing over her heated skin startled her. Forcing her eyes open, her chest heaved with labored breaths. The haze cleared from her vision, allowing Leah to see Embry kneeling between her legs, his gaze heavy and lustful, but a softness still lingering on his face.

Leah frowned, propping herself on her elbows. "What's wrong?"

Embry shook his head. "Nothing...nothing's wrong." When she didn't respond, unable to look away, he released a breath. Leaning down, he kissed her softly, stunning her with how easily she responded. And even though he was almost hesitant, she could still feel what it carried. Another silent reassurance even though she hadn't asked for it.

When he pulled away, it was all Leah could do not to move with him.

"Close your eyes..."

Leah shivered at the sound of his voice, the warmth of his lips brushing against hers. Blinking, she searched his eyes for something – an explanation, a reason – but found nothing other than what she saw before.

Taking a deep breath, she listened, eyelashes ghosting across her cheeks as she squeezed her eyes shut.

She held the air in her lungs, all of it escaping in a swift rush when she felt Embry brush his lips tenderly against her pulse, his tongue peeking out to taste her.

Still, she kept her eyes closed, letting her other senses compensate for what she couldn't see. Listening to his body shift. Feeling him between her legs, the way his demin-covered hips contrasted against her bare thighs. Smelling the subtle scent of sea and pine filtering into her nostrils. A scent she suddenly wanted more of as she drew a long, ragged breath through her nose.

Embry moved, and Leah's hands curled into fists at her sides when his mouth grazed along her clavicle. Tracing patterns with his lips, blazing hands gently stroking the curve of her waist.

He didn't stop, journeying down her body, mapping a path with his mouth. Refusing to miss a single spot as he drifted across her flesh. Destitute lips traveling slowly down the valley between her breasts, Leah's chest rising and falling as she fought to catch her breath.

Her hands curled around the comforter, the heady silence in the room pierced by nothing but her own subtle gasps each time Embry moved. Each time his kisses marked a new place and he claimed another piece of her. Soothing any leftover anxiety she held with a sweep of his tongue, and sealed beneath a sure and steady mouth.

Finally reaching her stomach, he lingered just below her belly button. Leah had to fight herself. She wanted to open her eyes – she wanted to see him – but she pressed her lips tightly together, keeping her body prone and still beneath him.

She could hear Embry straighten, his legs pressing into the mattress beneath them. He drew his fingers up her thighs, traveling to her knees and back again. Repeating the action, Leah's legs trembled, her head pressing harder against the bed beneath every stroke of his hands.

She felt his breath again, just above her knee. The heat from it doing little to calm the foreign need inside her, even as he left one last kiss in its place.

It was excruciating, how he took his time.

God, she wanted more...

"You're so beautiful..."

He whispered the words against her skin, each one reaching inside her. Replacing that fire. Quickly dulling it with something else. Words no one had spoke to her in so long, ushering everything else away with the subtle warmth of a devotion and respect she wasn't used to.

The way they sounded, falling from Embry's lips, reminding her what it felt like to hear them.

Reminding her how much it  _still_  mattered to her.

And Leah suddenly understood why. She understood what he was doing. How he was giving her what he felt she deserved. Every slow movement, every drawn out kiss, every gentle touch of his hand.

How he finally was able to show her what she was worth. To  _him_. That her body – that  _she_  – deserved more than she'd allowed it to be given for far too long.

She deserved to be worshipped. To know she was worth every single moment of every second he was trying to prolong.

And she couldn't bring herself to mind. She couldn't bring herself to care.

The fact it wasn't what she was used to only made her want more.

Only made her want  _him_  more.

Leah opened her eyes.

She found him already watching her, the smallest of smiles resting on his mouth. A simple gesture that threatened to pull her apart completely.

Sitting up slowly, she freed her body of the invisible hold he held on it. Reaching out for Embry, his gaze fell, watching her hands move. Still, she studied his face. The expression on it – the way his breath caught in his chest when she captured the hem of his shirt between agile fingers. Pushing as Embry grasped it, pulling it over his head in one swift movement. Those ebony eyes catching her reverent stare. Those lips smiling as they watched the soft regard she was sure he would find on hers.

Leah let her arms fall, grasping for Embry in the dim light. Her hands finding the hard curves of his chest, drawing out her own moment. Memorizing him, her fingers curling into smooth, copper flesh. Again, feeling his heartbeat beneath her hands.

Memorizing how it beat for her, in that moment.

How he was still there –  _for_  her – when she absolutely needed him the most.

How she needed him in that moment, in an entirely different way.

Leah held onto him harder as she leaned in, closing her eyes and pressing her lips to the very spot that heart rested inside his chest.

Silently telling him, in the only way she knew how, just how thankful she was for a heart that, no matter what, refused to give up on her.

Pushing everything else away, she pulled back, opening her eyes and tipping her head toward Embry. Everything else gone as he bent down, Leah's arms curling tightly around his neck. As she stretched to meet him, the sweetness of his lips overtaking her just before they covered hers. Before she deepened the kiss, her body giving way beneath his as he lowered her to the bed.

Surrendering to him all over again, hands still pressed fiercely to his chest.

Keeping him there.

Still, refusing to let go.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hehehe....
> 
> Thoughts on this chapter? :)


	13. Control

_**Suggested Listening: "I Know You Care" by Ellie Goulding, "Alas We Aspire" by Amy Stroup, "Open Season" by High Highs, "Heartache Is A Cold Place" by A Boy and His Kite, "Great Divide" by Lovedrug** _

When traces of morning light pulled her from a deep, dreamless sleep, the first thing Leah noticed wasn't the dark, unfamiliar room she found herself in. It wasn't the foreign bed covers she was tucked under, or the strong, comforting aroma of sea and pine as it filtered slowly into her nostrils.

It wasn't any of that.

Instead, it was the cold. The lack of heat surrounding her. The silence. A heartbeat that lulled her to sleep the night before was nowhere to be found.

Slowly, Leah opened her eyes, blinking as she shifted beneath the cotton blanket wrapped around her body. Letting her gaze sweep over the room she was in, an abundance of light filtered through the cracks in the drawn curtains, bathing the room in the faintest of glows. Allowing her to remember where she was.

_As if it would be possible to forget..._

Feeling the smallest of smiles pull at her lips, Leah brought her arms up, blearily rubbing her face with her hands. Letting them fall to the pillow, her eyes closed. She didn't forget. Instead, she remembered. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered word that led her to the place she was in that moment. How fluidly it happened. How easy it had been to let it.

How it somehow helped her leave behind another piece of another place she didn't want to be anymore.

She remembered it all.

What happened...

Rolling to her side, Leah sighed. Allowing her gaze to fall on the empty space next to her in the large bed, she noticed how the blankets had been pulled up to fill it. Reaching out with one arm, she released a deep sigh as her finger absentmindedly traced the prominent indent in the pillow, marking the place where Embry slept but no longer was.

What happened between them the night before continued to surface in nuanced flashes. How hands moved and mouths explored, how every moment was drawn out to last as long as possible. How they'd savored each other, together and one at a time, before it came to a slow and peaceful close.

Leah closed her eyes.

Remembering how Embry hadn't tried to take it any farther.

Remembering how she couldn't bring herself to  _ask_  him to, despite how much a large, inexplicable part of her wanted it. Despite how she could see it in his eyes, memorizing every curve and path of her body, relishing every movement. Gleaming with a feral, instinctual fire, confirming he wanted it too.

But it didn't happen.

She'd laid next to Embry instead, facing him. Watching him for no explainable reason as he watched her in return, his ebony eyes filled with a fervent softness she couldn't seem to wrap her head around. A look she should have been used to by that point, but she wasn't. She couldn't get  _enough_  of it, siphoning everything she could from it. A silent understanding somehow passing between them, one that carried no words to complicate things.

Leah could feel him. She could hear the sound of his relaxed, even breaths, the cool sheets beneath her cheek a definite contrast from the temperature of his bare skin pressed against hers.

Flashes – snippets of the hours, the days, leading her there – came back to her hazy mind, allowing that comforting warmth to once again spread through her veins. Keeping the emptiness away.  _Filling_  Leah with something she hadn't felt in entirely too long.

She was  _close_...much closer to him, to  _all_  of it, than she'd let herself get at any point leading her there. Quite possibly in over her head, all her need for the man beside her tangible in that moment. At the mercy of those eyes.

Putting herself in a position she always told herself she'd never be in again.

But in that moment, she couldn't find it in herself to care.

Fingers gripping the sheet beneath her, heavy eyes recaptured his, not missing the way they looked at her. Confident. Certain. When he offered her a smile filled with a million words he wanted to say, the twisting in her stomach was enough to knock the breath from her lungs.

Still, she didn't speak and neither did he. Instead, her hand reached out, fingertips drawing aimless patterns on the dips of his chest. She needed to touch him. To prove to some distant part of herself that it all really happened. That she had opened herself to him. Surrendered control. That he was still there and everything going on inside her - every last bit of content she felt in that moment - was real.

_That maybe it wouldn't go away..._

"Will you stay?" he'd asked her quietly.

God, she wanted those words, too. But as she drew in a deep breath, another word she was used to formed on her tongue, everything inside her preparing to disappoint him. A part of her screaming to ease up before she let herself be pulled in farther.

But when Leah's lips parted, it wouldn't come out. She couldn't say it.

She didn't  _want_  to say it.

She didn't want it to go away...

Her mouth closed, and Leah didn't speak a word. She smiled at him instead. Leaning forward, she closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his. Just to make sure the word stayed inside her mouth. A silent answer to his question. Quieting the protests inside her.

Still, something pulled at her insides when she drifted back to the present. Forcing her eyes to open, Leah's gaze drifted toward the door on the opposite side of the room. As a part of her wondered where Embry was and why he had left. Why he wasn't there. An inherent reaction in the back of her mind she couldn't seem to ignore.

Wondering - still - if this was ending the same way...

Her eyes traveled from her place in Embry's bed, landing on his suitcase, still sitting propped open on the luggage rack next to the armoire.

Leah let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, pushing the unwarranted anxiety right out with it.

Rolling to her back, Leah sat up, pushing disheveled strands of hair from her face. Tossing back the blankets, the lack of barrier allowed the cool air to sweep over her bare flesh, leaving an icy trail of goose bumps in its wake. Silently, Leah threw her legs over the side of the bed, standing and stretching before making her way to the foot of the mattress. Her gaze lowering as she found Embry's t-shirt from the night before, crumpled at her feet. The slight smile returned when she bent at the waist, trying to ignore the rampant thoughts of tired cliches she was bringing to life when she scooped up the disheveled garment and pulled it over her head.

 _Fuck it,_ she thought, reminding herself it was a much better option than the dress she had on the night before.

The thin cotton smelled of him, the scent enveloping her all over again as Leah distractedly ran her hand through her hair one last time. While one part of her wished wildly for a cup of coffee, another wondered what the hell she was supposed to do now. Leave? Call Embry? Wait for him to come back? It was enough to make her head swim with foreign questions she didn't know the answers to, her feet taking a few steps toward the terrace doors. Pulling the curtain aside, Leah peered through the glass, eyes immediately taking in the bright August morning waiting just on the other side.

She didn't think much of it when her fingers reached for the handle. Pulling the door aside, the warm air and busy sounds of the city rushing to greet her.

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Leah stepped onto the terrace, approaching the railing as she let her eyes sweep over the city several floors below. Regardless of where Embry was, a part of her was grateful for the moment he'd inadvertently given her. For the time to sort through the inevitable aftermath of everything that happened the night before. She wasn't used to it, knowing words would have to be said. Knowing they'd crossed some invisible line, and they were past the point of two friends simply being there for one another. Knowing there was more to it than that. There had  _always_  been more to it than that, even if it was something she never recognized.

Knowing there was no way it meant nothing to Embry.

A part of her silently acknowledging it meant something to her, too, even if she didn't know what that something was.

With a heavy sigh, Leah pushed back from the railing, taking a couple steps before collapsing into one of the patio chairs. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she took a deep breath, letting her eyes travel over the Chicago skyline, still wondering what all of it  _did_  mean. Contemplating where the hell she was going to go from that point.

Frankly, she had no fucking idea.

But Leah's gaze faltered, trailing toward the open terrace glass when she heard the soft sound of a door opening and closing from inside the room.

Holding her breath, Leah wrapped her arms around her legs, all thoughts from before gone as she waited. Propping her chin on one knee, the face she expected to see peered hesitantly around the door. Accepting the small smile he gave her by offering him one in return. A part of her relieved to see it again.

"Hey," he said softly, and Leah was surprised by the sudden shyness in his voice.

It warmed something inside her, remembering a time from  _long_  before. Reminding her of another Embry, when he used to look at her the same way, his voice carrying the same modesty. Wondering how she'd never really paid attention to those kind eyes and the bashful smile lingering on his lips in that moment.

It was clear Embry noticed the way she was watching him. His eyes dropped as the smile erupted into a grin, all protection from insecurities and words - offered by the moments they lost themselves in the night before - gone as quickly as it came.

"Hey," she murmured back, her gaze falling when Embry stepped over the threshold. It was then Leah could see the two coffee to-go cups in his hands and a small bag clasped carefully between one.

"Sorry I wasn't here when you woke up," he continued, sitting in the chair next to her. "I brought a peace offering."

The hopeful grin he gave her made Leah smile, too. Watching as he slid the cups across the small patio table, she dropped her feet to the cool cement beneath them. Leaning forward, Leah turned the cup so she could see the label on the cardboard holder. "Argo, huh?"

"Yeah," Embry confirmed, placing the bag next to the cups. "I found one a few days ago, a few blocks from here, and the coffee is way better than the sludge they serve down in the lobby."

"I'm sure," Leah said lightly, claiming one of the cups. Leaning back in her seat, she decided to keep things as lighthearted as possible. "I told myself I was gonna be mad at you for just taking off, but I think I might reconsider now. Had you come back empty-handed, I mighta been telling a different story."

Bringing the cup to her lips, Leah let her gaze travel to the man beside her, watching as a light, easy smile still rested on his mouth. "Black, right?" Embry asked, glancing at her as he leaned forward to open the paper bag.

She took a sip, suddenly knowing exactly what he meant. "Perfect."

Embry chuckled. "I remember how much crap you used to give Quil for putting so much cream and sugar in his coffee."

Leah scoffed, clutching the cup tighter between her palms. "Well, if he wanted to be a baby about it, he shoulda went out and got a gallon of chocolate milk instead of wasting perfectly good coffee."

Grinning, Embry brought the bag back to his lap. "He still drinks his coffee like that. Idiot uses about a half-bottle of creamer for each cup he drinks."

Leah grimaced, brushing her lips against the cup's plastic lid. "That's disgusting."

"I know." Embry reached into the bag. "I think I've figured out the reason he's always so fucking hyper is the sugar in that crap, not the caffeine."

"Or just because he's Quil," Leah murmured, finally taking a sip. Her eyes fixed on one of Chicago's many tall buildings, emerging from its concrete surroundings and dominating the crystal blue sky.

The crinkling of paper brought Leah out her trance. Lowering her cup, she peered over at Embry, her gaze lowering to the source of the noise.

"Oh, hell. You didn't..."

Embry grinned, offering her a delicate pastry wrapped in a thin, white paper. "The girl working there said the apple tarts were popular, so..."

Letting out a soft groan, Leah took the tart between her fingers. "You are my favorite person right now."

Embry shrugged, his smile widening. "Apparently, the city folk like a little butter and sugar with their flax bars and green tea."

"Ugh, I'll take these over that any day," she laughed, peeling back the paper and picking a piece of caramelized apple from the top of it. Popping it in her mouth, she closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath before swallowing. "My office isn't close enough to an Argo, so I almost never get these." She took a huge bite out of the succulent pastry, not thinking twice before she opened her mouth to speak again. "Mmm, you did good. I just might keep you around yet, Call."

Chewing, Leah ventured a glance at Embry, finding him already peering at her from where he sat, the somewhat distant yet hopeful look in his eyes pulling at something inside her. Causing her to remember everything all over again. The moments coming back. Whispered words. Tender touches. Every kiss.

Causing her to see, for a single moment, what the possibility of the words meant to him.

That maybe he had a few less questions than she did.

But she kept smiling, the action teasing and requiring little effort, even as she reached up to lick the gooey cinnamon mixture from her index finger.

"So pastries are all it takes, huh?" Embry's gaze lightened. "You're a cheap date, Clearwater."

"And you're figuring it out quick."

He made an amused noise in his throat, removing his own pastry from the bag as Leah chewed thoughtully on hers, the silence between them comfortable and easy. Something she hadn't anticipated, but was grateful for nonetheless. He took a bite, chewing a moment before he looked at her, swallowing thickly.

"So what's there to do around here on Sundays?"

Leah took a deep breath. "Well, what have you done since you've been here?" she asked. "You know...besides showing up at random dive bars in Bucktown and breaking into bathroom stalls?"

"Hey, I don't get to do that too often, you know..."

Leah grinned in spite of herself. "I figured..."

Embry swallowed, pushing his hair back from his face as the warm breeze caught it. "But no...in all honesty, I haven't done much," he replied. "Besides, you know, going to meetings and chasing you all around Chicago."

Rolling her eyes playfully, Leah chewed hard on a bite of tart. "So, you haven't been out to see the city at all since you got here?"

Embry's gaze fell. "Not really."

Sighing, she leaned forward, carefully placing the pastry on the table, making sure it rested on the thin paper in which it came. Turning to look at him, Leah leaned back in her chair. "So, don't take this the wrong way, but how often do you actually get out of La Push, Em?"

He chuckled, taking a bite of his own pastry. "Not very often," he admitted with a mouth full of apples.

"Exactly," Leah responded knowingly, "so why wouldn't you take advantage of it? Autumn was right when she told you there are a lot of great things to see. Touristy stuff...holes in the wall. You name it."

Taking a deep breath, Embry looked at his feet before he spoke. "Pretty sure I wouldn't even know where to start."

Leah hesitated, but refused to think too hard about it. She refused to question the words as each one formed on her tongue. Almost like they would have come out eventually, even if his hadn't prompted them.

"Well, it's a good thing you have someone here who knows her way around, huh?"

One eyebrow lifting, Embry glanced up at her, his lips fighting a coy grin. "So is that you're way of asking me to spend the day with you?"

She couldn't help it as she rolled her eyes again, shaking her head but smiling when she looked away. Ignoring the nervous knot suddenly sitting like a lead weight in the pit of her stomach.

"Or it could just be me offering to show you around, since I'm the only person in this city you know…"

Leah looked back in time to see Embry nod, his shoulders lifting in an exaggerated shrug. "I could always call Autumn. I bet she'd do it…"

"Ha," Leah snorted, sitting her coffee on the table and rising to her feet, not losing track of how Embry's eyes followed her as she moved. Turning, she cocked an eyebrow and peered down at him. "Too bad you don't have her number."

"Well, there was that day I stopped by your office…"

Shaking her head, Leah looked away with a laugh, her feet moving toward the open terrace door. "You're a smooth guy, Embry Call. Didn't know you had it in you."

"Well, then you  _should_  know…" Embry's words drifted off, and before Leah could reach the door, she felt a blazing hand wrap around her wrist, the sensation of his fingers digging into her flesh dissolving the knot in her stomach. Pushing the remnants of its heat through her veins.

Body frozen, she looked down at him to find those ebony eyes already watching her, all joking gone by the time she did.

"I'd rather have you do it," he continued, his voice low, a small smile still resting on his mouth. "So yeah...if you won't ask, I will. Do you want to spend the day with me?"

The sincerity in his eyes, barely masking the hope resting alongside it, kept Leah from looking away. His was the same look that pierced straight through her from the pillow next to her the night before, reassuring her that it was okay to be there. That maybe it was fine to want more.

That maybe things didn't have to be complicated.

That, for now, it might just be okay to leave the questions alone.

That it was still okay to want him around...

Taking a deep breath, Leah moved without giving her body permission. Her eyes watching Embry as she bent at the waist, drawing closer to him. Closing them as she tasted the sweetness of apple on his breath just before leaving a soft, sincere kiss on a pair of lips that reignited the heat inside her body. Not missing it when his fingers dug tighter into her wrist.

Pulling away, she lingered for just a moment before opening her eyes, finding his bewildered ones already watching her. His dark gaze still so filled with the same certainty she'd come to rely on.

She wasn't sure when her free hand lifted, but she noticed when her fingers absentmindedly traced the line of his jaw.

"Under one condition…" she finally whispered, giving him a small smile when she felt the hand around her wrist slowly disappear. As she straightened, despite a small part of her still watching those lips. Wanting to kiss them again now that, removed from the night before, she'd given both of them permission to let it happen again.

One brow lifting, there was a tentative curiosity in Embry's eyes. "What's that?"

Pursing her lips, Leah's own eyebrow arched expectantly. "We have to stop by my place...so I can change clothes."

A part of her warmed at the relieved glint in his eyes, another suddenly looking forward to the idea. Of spending the day in the city with another person. Of spending the day with  _him_.

Without a word to accompany it, Embry captured her hand when she turned to go inside, refusing to release it even as she turned away.

She held on, too.

Only letting it go when she finally stepped through the door, Leah's insides twisting in a way she hadn't felt in years. The sensation foreign. Pleasant.  _Overwhelming_. The smile still resting on her lips as she walked silently toward the bathroom.

Hanging onto it instead.

Still blown away and awestruck by the fact he wanted her around as much as she suddenly found herself wanting to be there.

* * *

"Holy crap, we're high up…"

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Leah's shins pressed against the railing separating her and Embry from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the John Hancock Observatory in downtown Chicago. Their day was coming to a close and this was the best place she could think of to show him parts of the city he might not get to see.

It was their last stop. After running to her loft to shower and change, she'd taken him back downtown, arriving at Millennium Park by noon. They'd spent a couple hours there, eating lunch and wandering around. Stopping every once in awhile so Leah could point out the tallest buildings in the city, telling him which ones they were and what was inside them.

When Embry suggested going to the Field Museum, Leah smiled and agreed, knowing it would be a place he could easily lose himself in for hours.

When they got there, Leah hung back as much as she could, letting Embry take in what he wanted and spend time at exhibits he found interesting. Growing up, she'd paid enough attention to know he had always been intelligent, hiding it like a lot of the boys she knew did, but Leah clearly remembered the love he had for science. For how things worked and how they grew.

So she observed quietly, content to watch how he lost himself in some of the displays. Smiling when he mumbled unintelligible words and observations to himself, suddenly remembering she was there before turning to explain what he was looking at to her, too. Leah had been to the Field Museum several times, but she didn't mention it to him. A part of her was too pleased with how much he was enjoying himself, so she kept her mouth shut. She smiled, and she listened.

When they left, a grinning Embry rambling next to her in the backseat of the taxi, Leah decided where she would take him last. A place she would often shell out the money to visit just so she could clear her mind and think. It was far from sacred, always populated by throngs of tourists, but it was a place she loved nonetheless.

Smiling, Leah blinked, her vision refocusing on the city below them, which seemed infinitely smaller from one thousand feet up. "Yeah," she murmured. "I love it here, though."

"I can see why," Embry said quietly from beside her. "You can see everything from up here."

Leah nodded, glancing at Embry knowingly out of the corner of her eye. "And you don't have to wait in line for hours to see it like you do at the Sears Tower."

"That's always a good thing…"

Embry's voice drifted off, overshadowed by distant conversations in other parts of the observatory. Taking a deep breath, Leah held it, eyes traveling up Lake Shore Drive and back again. Watching the microscopic cars traveling in the receding daylight. The silence between her and Embry was thick, but not entirely unwelcome. It didn't feel awkward. It didn't feel forced.

Still, it was interrupted several moments later by an unfamiliar ring of a cell phone, the noise coming from just beside her.

Frowning in spite of herself, Leah glimpsed beside her to see Embry digging into his jeans pocket, eyes fixed on the phone in his hand. Lifting it closer to see who was calling, he stared at it for a long moment, making no move to answer it.

Something in Leah's chest tightened.

"Who is it?" she asked quietly.

Embry swallowed, his gaze still affixed to the phone. "It's Jake." Staring at the phone for another moment, he silenced the ringer with a sweep of his finger, pushing it back into his pocket.

Taking a breath, Leah released it, the tension inside her dissipating. "Don't you wanna take it? You're supposed to sign the papers for the garage this week. It might be important."

Embry shook his head. "I'll just call him back later."

Nodding, Leah tightened her arms around herself. Trying to think of something to say, but only one question coming to mind. One she hadn't thought much about since Embry first told her during their dinner at Blackbird, but one she found herself wanting to know more about this time.

"So when is the baby due?" she asked quietly, pretending not to notice Embry's startled gaze turn toward her. His eyes shifted before she got a good chance to look at them, softly regarding her when she did.

"End of October," Embry replied. Shrugging, his gaze lowered. "But we're all placing bets that Bella's gonna have it way before then."

Leah let a small smile pull at her lips. "Why do you say that?"

"Nothing in particular," Embry responded, an amused grin flashing over his features. "We're just hoping...or else Jake might not make it till then."

"Is she that bad?" Leah queried, lifting one eyebrow, drawing on what little she knew about Bella Swan.

Chuckling, Embry shook his head. "No, she's just…" he paused, "her normal need for order and organization mixed with the unpredictability of pregnancy hormones is just...well, it's a little out of character for her. It's like mood swings on steroids. It's a bit comical actually...if you're not Jake, that is."

Allowing a small laugh of her own to slip past her lips, Leah finally looked away. "So when did that happen...Bella and Jake, I mean?"

"Not long after you left," Embry replied quietly, forcing Leah to think back to where Bella and Jacob had been when she fled La Push. She remembered a pale, meek girl who kept Jacob at arm's length for longer than he should have put up with, but also remembering Jake relentlessly trying to get through to her after her vampire boyfriend - the same kind of creature Leah and the others were made to destroy, to protect their people from - skipped town one day and never came back. To bring her back to life. To convince her she was  _better_  among the living.

"Bella applied for a lot of colleges the year after she graduated, after you were gone," Embry continued. "All of them pretty far away from Washington. She'd go visit them but they were never right, you know? Something always kept her from sending the papers back and actually enrolling in classes. Something always brought her back." Taking a deep breath, Embry's gaze was fixed on the glass in front of them. "It took her a long time to realize what it was...or  _who_  it was, but she did. Eventually." He shrugged. "So she went to Peninsula instead, and the rest is history. The rest of it pretty much played out like it was supposed to."

"So she never even tried to leave?" Leah asked, her voice barely audible, curiosity seeping through the words.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Embry shake his head. "She just realized where her life was meant to be. She realized where she was better, and it just happened to be the same place she was the whole time."

Leah swallowed anxiously, following it with a deep breath. "Did any of the others try to leave?"

"No," Embry answered indefinitely. "Almost everyone else has something...or someone...tying them to La Push." He peered at her out of the corner of his eye. "A lot of them imprinted."

Looking away, Leah nodded, clearly remembering the brief conversations when her mother tried to mention it out of some sense of obligation. Never saying it, only when Leah repeatedly told her she didn't want to hear it, knowing full well what her mother was trying to do. To let her know it was happening to the others, too. That she was missing these moments in the lives of her pack brothers by staying away, despite it being the same kind of moment that drove her away from La Push in the first place.

Still, this time, she took a breath and asked.

"Who?"

It was all she needed to say for Embry to understand, and when he responded, she kept her stare focused on anything but him.

"Well, you know about Jared and Kim, since they happened first," Embry replied. "But after you left, it happened to Paul, too." He chuckled, trying to deflect from the hesitant tone of his voice. "Quil was after him."

When he fell silent, Leah nodded, trying to understand. Noticing how it didn't elicit the same kind of anger and regret it did listening to Embry mention it again. She hated the math on it, though - just how many of her pack brothers had actually imprinted. Still, the reminder didn't feel like a punch to the gut. Not like it usually did.

Regardless, it didn't make her hate the idea any less. What it meant. What it cost those if happened to, whether they knew it or not.

"And, like you already know, Seth has Grace," Embry pressed on, the words laced with a heaviness Leah didn't miss. "And Jake's alpha now, and with the business, with Bella, the baby, his dad...his entire life is in La Push."

"Mom did tell me about that," Leah admitted quietly. "About Jake...taking over the pack." She focused on Lake Shore Drive again, chewing on the inside of her lip. Ignoring how she thought maybe she was about to take things too far. She'd spent so much time blocking  _his_  name from her head, doing everything she could to banish the memories and forget about what caused it all in the beginning.

Still, another part of her - a larger, more masochistic part - wanted to know how it would feel to say it that time, consequences be damned.

"What made Sam give it up?"

It was easier than before...

Still, it chilled her skin, and she swore she could hear Embry swallow, even beneath all the white noise enveloping them.

He took a ragged breath. "Sam wanted other things…"

"Like what?" Leah murmured, her voice steady and overly confident, even for her. She took a step closer to Embry before she even realized her feet moved, her eyes watching him. Imploring. "You remember what I told you last night…" She caught his gaze, the words more of a statement than a question. "I'm asking, and it's not just for the hell of it. I want you to tell me these things if I do, Embry."

Leah couldn't explain the small smile that pulled at the corner of Embry's mouth. She held onto it anyway, keeping the sincerity in her eyes. Counting on the honesty in his.

"To get married," Embry finally said, cautiously holding her eyes. Refusing to look away. "To start a family." Lips parting, he watched Leah for a moment, searching hers for any sign he'd said too much.

It was the answer she expected, and it still hurt like hell - to hear the words spoken out loud, to know it was a future that had once belonged to her. One she had trusted blindly but lost without a choice. Still, she needed Embry to grab the edge of the bandage. She needed his help ripping it off, knowing the wound wouldn't heal if she didn't give it some air. Knowing the conversation they were having was only a continuation of so many they'd had before. Knowing he would do what he could to soothe it all once he did.

"That," Embry's voice broke the silence once again, "and his heart just wasn't in it anymore. How he handled it...when you left...did a lot of damage to the pack. It broke a lot of bonds he could never really repair."

Blinking frantically at Embry's admission, Leah's breath caught in her throat, a part of her still not used to hearing it. How her leaving affected the others. She'd never given it much thought, both in the beginning and over the years. How her departure would affect the dynamic of the pack. Frankly, at one point, she hadn't cared.

But like always, hearing Embry say it was different. Taking a moment to consider it - how persistent Embry was, how confident he was in his decision to stick by her - she wanted to know more. She wanted to know if the others had possibly felt the same way.

She suddenly wanted to ask him all the questions swirling through her brain, but she didn't, pursing her lips and keeping the words in her mouth. Possibly saving them for another time.

What he had told her was enough, and a larger part of her didn't want to talk about Sam. She didn't want to hear any more.

"What about Brady and Collin?" Leah changed the subject quickly. "Seth told me they phased after I left. They never imprinted?"

Beside her, Embry made an annoyed noise in his throat. "No, they didn't. Not yet, at least. But that's probably a good thing. They're still pretty young...getting into trouble. Enjoying all the perks that come with what we are, and not being the thirteen and fourteen-year-old kids they were when they first joined us..."

Leah couldn't help the grin she flashed the window in front of her. "Have a little trouble keeping it in their pants, do they?"

"Yeah...you could say that," Embry laughed.

Once the words dissipated between them, Leah pulled in a deep breath, once again turning her gaze toward him. Finding him pensively watching some unknown point on the Chicago streets below them.

"What about you?" she murmured, a part of her already knowing the answer to the question she was about to ask. "There's nothing tying you to La Push. Why'd you stick around?"

Lips parting, Embry's head lowered, buying himself some time for a reason that was lost on Leah. Still, she waited, watching as he lifted his face toward her.

"It's my home...the only place I've ever really belonged, and the pack…" He paused, his eyes finding hers, "... _all_  of it...is the only family I've ever really had."

Leah understood, knowing what she knew about Embry and knowing what his mother was like during a time when he simply needed someone to understand. Knowing it wasn't far from the truth when he said those words. Recognizing that fierce sense of loyalty she felt at one point, too, and remembering how she and the others had been more of a family to him than his own blood.

Sighing, she crossed her arms in front of her. "So it was just me, huh?"

"What do you mean?'

Leah swallowed. "That left."

She didn't miss it when Embry's shoulder lightly brushed hers. "Everyone understood why, Leah…"

"Did they?" She turned her head that time, eyes wide. Clouded with disbelief and an honest need to know when Embry finally looked back. "Did they understand why I came here? Why I didn't want to be found?"

"Most of them think it was because of what happened," Embry admitted, his face despondent but his eyes still looking directly into hers. "I never showed them what you said to me in the truck after, or in your kitchen. I didn't think you'd want them to know."

Leah turned away, pulling her arms tighter around her. "It wouldn't have mattered," she said softly, "but maybe it would have. Probably not, though, since I did everything I could to keep from being found, and even if what I think is true...even if you weren't the only one who wanted me to come back...there was a  _reason_  I didn't want to be found, Embry."

She could feel the words bubbling in her throat, the tightness in her chest pushing each one out. Urging her to speak, even if Embry hadn't asked to hear it.

"There was a reason I  _threatened_  my family...I told them they'd  _never_  see me again if they ever breathed a word to any of you."

Leah ignored the startled wince as it flashed across Embry's features, disappearing as quickly as it came. Despite how it brought a latent shame inside her dangerously close to the surface.

"Yeah, a part of it...was because of Sam," she stammered, her voice thick. "How he made me believe I wasn't wanted...how I believed I wasn't worth anything." The words were heavy from years of sitting in her chest, trapped by a heart that refused to give them the time of day. That refused to feel them. To let them out.

"And a bigger part of it was not being able to face Emily and what I did to her," Leah conceded quietly. "But mostly it was because of  _why_  it happened...what I was, and knowing I didn't want to be a part of that life anymore. It caused me to hurt people...it hurt  _me_  and took away all my choices." She sucked in a ragged breath. "I paid a high price for that life, and I didn't fucking want it anymore, so once I got where I was going...once I got here...I didn't want to be part of a life that took things from people. To be a part of a life I couldn't control."

She could hear Embry swallow next to her. "Did you find that here?" he whispered.

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth to fight an ironic smile, Leah fixed her gaze on the sprawling city dozens of stories below them. "No matter what happened...no matter how fucked up it made me...I was in control of this. Everything I did here I did because I  _chose_  to."

Embry didn't respond, even when he moved closer to her, Leah's eyes closing inherently when she felt his arm slip gently around her waist. Pulling her toward him, she instinctively felt her body relax, a heavy breath escaping her lungs. Once again making her feel like it was okay. To lay it all out. To answer his questions.

She could feel his mouth, moving softly against her hair.

"It's okay to want that, Leah," he reassured, his breath warm. "I get it, but you can't control everything in your life. That's not how it works."

Leah took a deep breath, one arm loosening its hold on herself. Moving down until she felt her hand cover the one Embry held against her hip. "I know," she admitted, "but it's hard to believe it. It's hard for  _me_  to trust it and let myself rely on anyone  _but_  me, even now, because that's all I allowed myself to do...for a long time." She held her breath that time, tipping her head up. Feeling Embry pull back until she was looking into those ebony eyes, finding some kind of strength and reassurance in them. Helping her say what she wanted to say.

To speak more words she wasn't sure how to before.

"But then you showed up."

She could see the smile pulling at his lips, but she averted her gaze, knowing she wasn't finished. "You showed up and you fucked it all up," she murmured with a subtle laugh, her tone laced with a lightheartedness despite the underlying meaning. Hiding her own smile as she turned away. "I feel like I haven't been in control of anything since you got here, and it's freaked me out. It's  _still_  freaking me out." Shaking her head, Leah kept her gaze focused on the floor. "That's why I fought you so hard at first, because you made me question  _everything_. You made me  _remember_  everything…and I didn't want to. Not at first..."

"Leah…" Embry's grip around her waist tightened.

"Hear me out," she insisted firmly, interrupting him. The smile gone from her lips, she glanced back at him to see his brows pulled low over his eyes. Both clouded with that same intense commitment that, in a single breath, both comforted and scared the shit out of her.

"I don't know what this is. I have no idea what we're doing or what the hell is going to happen or if I'm ever gonna fix everything I need to. I don't fucking know  _anything_  anymore and the thing is...I think it's okay, because I still feel  _better_ ," she conceded quietly, unable to look away from Embry. "Better than I have in years. Maybe it's because you're here...maybe it's because I can admit it to myself finally...that maybe I  _need_  parts of that life. I can't explain it, but...I think it's because somehow, you remind me of what was  _good_  about it...and I  _want_ that. I want to remember...why sometimes, it  _was_  worth it."

Shoulders rising and falling with a deep, languid breath, Embry shifted. Turning his body toward her, Leah never let go of those eyes when she felt both hands on her cheeks. A part of her not wanting to close her own, even though she did when he bent down, pressing his lips to hers. Tenderly. Once, twice, three times.

Too gentle, but Leah couldn't find it in herself to argue.

She couldn't help but smile against his mouth, fingers brushing against his waist when he finally pulled away.

"Keep reminding me…"

She could feel  _his_  smile, one that matched hers, when he closed the tiny bit of space between them. Kissing her again.

"Just...don't stop." Her eyes were still closed when Embry straightened, and she could feel his lips on the crown of her head. "Because so long as you don't, I think I'll remember everything I just told you...and I think I can do this. I really think I can."

Embry's breath pushed through the strands of hair on top of her head. "I know you can…"

Finally drawing air into her lungs, Leah opened her eyes. Glancing up at Embry to see him still watching her, a look of pride and a million other emotions swirling through his. Blinking, she eventually let her gaze fall, looking back toward the window. Watching as twilight descended on the city.

_I want to remember…_

_Why sometimes, it was worth it._

"Wanna get going?"

Embry's voice pulled her from her thoughts. Looking back to him, she nodded, a new kind of knot already forming in her stomach when he smiled at her. When he turned to go, expecting her to follow.

But she didn't, the words falling from her lips before she could stop them.

"Shit. Hey, Em?"

He stopped, eyebrows lifting expectantly when he turned to face her.

Leah's face screwed up, her mouth suddenly dry. Her heart suddenly pounding against her ribs. "I need to call Autumn really quick and check on something for morning. I'll catch up."

Embry glanced toward the exit, where others were sifting in and out of the observatory. "You want me to wait for you?"

Offering him the best unalarming smile she could muster, she shook her head. "No, it's okay. I won't be long. Go grab us a taxi and I'll be down in a minute, okay?"

Embry hesitated for a moment, his expression unconcerned despite the pause. Finally, he nodded.

"Okay."

Feet rooted to the floor, Leah's gaze fixed on the back of Embry's head as she watched him go. As his tall frame disappeared around the corner. She still didn't move, waiting a handful of moments just to make sure he wouldn't come back.

Letting out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, Leah wiped her clammy hands on her shorts before letting one travel behind her. Trembling fingers wrapped around the cell phone in her pocket, pulling it out.

Holding her breath again, she turned, leaden feet carrying her in the same direction Embry went. Toward the elevators, except when she reached her destination, she kept walking, approaching the doorway near it. Hand reaching out, she turned the knob, stepping over the threshold.

The door clicked shut behind her, shutting Leah in an empty stairwell. The sound signifying something else. Another step.

Letting her know the time she spent running...the time she spent hiding from  _this_...had finally run out.

Chest tight, Leah took a couple steps forward, pulling what little air she could into her burning lungs. Collapsing on the landing, she rested her elbows on her thighs, holding her phone between both hands. Staring holes through the lit screen.

Her fingers refusing to hesitate…

Surrendering control as her thumbs moved instinctively over numbers she knew by heart. Over numbers she never forgot.

Putting the phone up to her ear, Leah's pulse pounded when she heard the first ring.

The phone shook in her hand by the second.

She couldn't breathe by the third.

But when she heard a click in the middle of the fourth ring - when several agonizingly long moments of silence passed without a word - that same heart ceased to beat altogether.

 _Refusing_  to until she heard a deep breath that wasn't hers, gathering its own courage, followed by a voice she hadn't heard in so fucking long.  _Too_  long.

A voice belonging to someone else who maybe could help her remember. Who could remind her this just might be worth it.

" _Leah?"_

She gripped the phone tighter, fingers no longer shaking. Unable to explain the burning in her eyes.

Instead, Leah smiled.

"Hey, Seth."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So I kind of freaking loved this chapter. Hope you guys did too. Had the ending planned all along! ;)
> 
> Thoughts on it?


	14. Unexpected

_**Suggested Listening: "Myth" by Beach House, "High Hopes" by Kodaline, "Slow" by Grouplove, "Trembling Hands" by The Temper Trap, "Perfect Darkness" by Fink** _

His concentration completely shot, Embry closed the lid of his laptop with a little too much force, releasing a heavy sigh.

Leaning forward at his desk, Embry glanced at the bright red numbers of the digital clock. He'd spent almost the entire day working, going over last-minute contracts and paperwork before the signing on Wednesday. Mostly, though, he tried to stay occupied. Distracted. At one point, he even relocated to the same coffeehouse he'd went the morning before.

But he couldn't keep his eyes off the damn clock.

He was uneasy. On edge, even if he couldn't explain why.

Still, a part of him knew. He wanted to call Leah. Wanted to text her. Wanted to do  _something_ other than sit where he was, wasting time and simply waiting.

Pushing his hands through his hair, it was all too clear. Everything inside him ached to see her again, an unsettling urgency buzzing through his veins. He wanted her there, as much as she could be.

But it was Monday and she was still at work. No matter what had happened between them over the weekend, she was living a life she still had, regardless of it all.

Staring at the closed laptop several inches in front of him, Embry swallowed thickly, another part of him knowing why he felt the way he did.

Remembering that two thousand miles away, there was another life waiting.

_His._

Fuck, he was in too deep. Drowning...

_And he didn't want it any other way._

Closing his eyes, Embry clasped his hands together, pressing them to his mouth. Two nights earlier, it had taken everything inside him to stop, every cell in his body - every instinct he carried within - fighting it. Remembering how Leah looked beneath him. How her eyes fluttered closed, how her skin glistened in the moonlight. How her chest heaved with breaths she couldn't catch.

Embry shuddered, the memory of it enough to bring it all back to the surface. Every moment filling him wholly.

It was one of the hardest things he'd ever done - to not let the animal inside him dominate it all. To give  _into_ it all - that feral urge to take. To claim what he wanted as his.

He'd made that mistake with her once, and remembering it only reminded him of what he'd seen. What he'd  _felt_ during a time when it finally meant so much more.

She wanted it. She wanted  _him_.

She wanted it  _all_ , every part of her drawing him in in the best possible ways. Encouraging him. The heavy veil of lust and  _safety_ in her eyes. The heady, potent shift in her scent. The way her body responded beneath his hands. His mouth. The way she surrendered herself to him. Beckoning.

Silently pleading him to take every piece of her.

But he pushed it away. He buried that part of him in a deep corner because no matter how much he wanted it - no matter how much  _she_ did - he wanted something else more.

He wanted it to be  _different_.

Embry couldn't forget what led up to it, how Leah had opened up to him in a way she never had before. She'd willingly shown him a vulnerability and regret he knew rested just beneath the surface.

How even then, she thought it was all too far gone to be fixed.

That  _she_ was too far gone to be fixed.

So no matter what, it meant too much. Even though her eyes had cried out to him, the same way they had since that night he ran into her at the bar, he knew what she was doing. Bringing it to the surface. Letting it go.

Trusting him, in the only way she knew how.

Those eyes held him captive, reminding him of what he needed to do. What he needed to prove.

To keep showing her how she was worth it all. All the kisses. All the moments.

All the time in the world...

It only pulled him in deeper.

God, he'd wanted to ask her to stay - the night before, after the day they spent together. Especially after what she said to him at the observatory, but he also didn't want to push it. Once again, he had to remind himself to be patient.

 _Patient_.

She hadn't stayed, and another night had passed. Which meant it was Monday, and he would leave in less than three days.

Three days was all he had.

Three days until he left.

_Less than a month until Seth's wedding…_

Reminding him there was very little time for patience, but wildly hoping it would be enough.

That maybe he'd have a lifetime after if he could only help her through the first two.

With another sigh, Embry opened his eyes, trying to ignore the fire in his gut at the thought of it. The sinking feeling in his chest, knowing his mind was running away with itself. Hating that there were no guarantees past the days he had left. All of it threatened to knock him down, yet somehow fueled his determination in the same ragged breath.

_Then you better make it fucking count..._

Pushing his chair back, Embry stood, pulling in one calming breath after another. A frown pulled on his lips as he scanned the room for his absent cell phone, needing to find it. A part of him wanting to send that text anyway just so she knew, his feet carrying him toward the jeans he was wearing the night before, still lying in a pile near his suitcase.

His legs ceasing to move when he heard a loud, determined knock on his door.

Eyebrows scrunching in confusion, Embry glanced toward the door before his eyes pulled back to the clock, realizing it was only a few minutes later than the last time he looked. Wondering if maybe it was possible Leah got off work early and he simply hadn't heard his phone ring.

Taking another breath, Embry moved, crossing the distance between the door and where he stood. A small smile crossing his lips as he reached for the door handle, something inside him churned in anticipation as he turned it.

All of it disappearing the moment he opened the door.

All of it replaced with something else when he saw who was standing on the other side.

All the breath leaving him, replaced with a heavy dread - an infallible fear - when the other person stared back at him expectantly, a knowing brow lifting high above one eye.

"You know, you wouldn't be so surprised to see me if you actually answered your damn phone."

* * *

"Wednesday sounds great. No - thank  _you_. See you at three."

Once she heard the click on the opposite end of the line, Leah hung up her phone. Releasing a puff of breath, she leaned forward in her chair, elbows pressing against the glass surface of her desk. The call ending a timeout from the thoughts she wasn't able to turn off. Ones that started with another phone call the night before.

Pressing her lips into a thin line, Leah clasped her hands in front of her mouth. Remembering…

_Listening to the silence on the other end of her cell phone, the smile on Leah's lips threatened to disappear the longer it she held it. Chest tight, eyes still burning, Leah waited. Clenching her fist against her cheek, she wondered - if Seth was going to say something. If he was going to hang up on her._

_If he was going to tell her that maybe this was all a mistake and maybe she acted too quickly._

_But she swallowed it down, trying to remember what Embry told her before, when he assured her she might be surprised when it came to her brother. That he might want to hear from her more than she thought._

_As much as she wished it would have been him calling her, she knew it was half her fault, too - how long it had been. Why so many words went unsaid. Why maybe he felt like reaching out to her was no longer an option._

_She wanted to make it right..._

_Leah drew in a deep breath, blaming Seth's silence on anything but what she thought it might be._

_She spoke again, saying the only thing she could think of in that moment._

" _I...I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"_

_Fuck, she hated it - how unfamiliar the words sounded. How she was speaking to her a brother like a stranger. Like an acquaintance she hadn't seen in years…_

_Her stomach twisted, and she had to remind herself it_ had _been that long._

_Leah's thoughts were interrupted when Seth sucked in a deep breath._

" _Umm...no, you're fine. I was actually just on my way out."_

" _Do you want me to let you go?" Leah held her breath._

" _No...no, that's okay," Seth replied, his voice shaky despite taking no time to say the words. "I'm...uh, I'm glad you called. I was gonna call you actually."_

_Leah swallowed thickly, the burning back in the corners of her eyes. Her chest suddenly feeling a million times lighter. "You were?"_

" _Yeah," Seth admitted sheepishly, and Leah couldn't help but smile at the way he said it - quietly, laced with a characteristic hint of embarrassment. Spoken in a way that was so familiar. "But you, uh...you beat me to it. I, um...actually have some news."_

_Holding her breath, Leah thought carefully about her words before she spoke them. Already knowing what he was going to tell her, she wanted to hear him say it. Wanted to let him tell her himself, the way Embry had wanted. The way Seth was supposed to._

" _Oh, yeah?" she whispered, her voice cracking slightly through parted lips._

" _Yeah...unless Mom already told you…"_

_Leah shook her head, even though he couldn't see her. "No, I haven't talked to her…"_

" _Oh," Seth murmured, "okay, well...that's good, I guess. I didn't really want her to be the one to tell you, and...I swear I was gonna call you sooner, it's just...I wasn't sure how to tell you, and I didn't want to make you mad or upset you, so...just don't get mad, okay?"_

_Leah grimaced, knowing her brother had no idea what she'd been through the past several days. The realizations she'd made - the barriers that were falling - were lost on him because he didn't know. His words cut deep, reminding her of the person she'd been not that long before. What she did and what she'd said to him to make him believe they were necessary to say._

_Closing her eyes, Leah could feel a searing tear squeeze its way from her eye, leaving a trail as it traveled down her cheek. Taking a deep breath, she brought up one hand, swiping it away._

" _I won't be mad, Seth."_

_There was another moment of silence. Leah covered the mouthpiece as she sniffled loudly, unable to control how her body was reacting to it all. A mixture of sadness, relief, and an overwhelming joy she didn't recognize, somehow finding a way out._

_She pressed the phone harder to her ear the moment Seth took a ragged breath of his own._

" _I'm getting married."_

_She wasn't sure where the rest of the tears came from or why there were so many of them, but Leah found herself unable to see, everything in her field of vision blurred as the moisture gathered frantically in her eyes. Still, she held her breath. Still, she smiled._

" _That's...great," she whispered. "I'm happy for you."_

_Seth paused, almost like he didn't believe her, and Leah didn't miss it._

" _Really?"_

_She nodded anyway, running her fingers over the spots of moisture on her shorts, marking where the tears had fallen from her chin._

" _Yeah," she murmured. "What's her name?"_

" _Grace."_

_Her lower lip quivering violently, Leah tucked it between her teeth to stop it, brushing another trail of moisture from her face as more words formed on her tongue. Things she needed to ask despite the time that had passed. Despite how estranged she felt from the person on the other side of the phone and how much it both killed and helped her to hear his voice._

" _Is she nice? Is she good to you?"_

" _She is," Seth said softly. "I think you'd like her…"_

_Staring at her knees, Leah smiled. A part of her wanted to remind him she was still his big sister and deep down, no girl would ever be good enough for him._

_But she didn't, unable to feel like she was in a place to say it. Not yet._

_She swallowed past the words in her throat. "I'm sure I would…"_

_She could hear Seth moving around on the other end of the line. "Listen, Lee, I need to run…"_

_Chest tightening, Leah clutched the phone tighter, her stomach leaping. A part of her searched for some way to keep him on the line. To keep him talking. To draw this out, too. Because regardless of the fact he picked up the phone and decided to talk to her, Leah couldn't help but think if she let him go, she wouldn't hear her brother's voice again._

" _Seth…" Her voice was barely audible._

_He pretended not to hear her. "Before I go, though, I just...it's been a long time, I know that, and...I want to talk more, I do," Seth pushed out hurriedly, a sincerity Leah recognized buried deep in his voice, "but...I want you to come to the wedding. It's the last weekend of the month. We're gonna get married on the beach, and...I know how you feel about...everything, but...Grace wants you to be a part of it, and I want you to be there, if you can."_

_A fresh stream of tears cascaded down her cheeks. She swore silently to herself, but the smile still rested on Leah's lips. It wouldn't go away, despite his question. Despite the fact there was no way she could give him a definite answer to it. Wanting to, but not knowing if she was ready for it - to see him. To see her mother. To see everyone else._

_To face them all. To face_ everything _she left behind in order to do what her brother asked._

 _To go_ home _._

_Leah's lips parted, but not a single word came out._

" _And...if you can't, well...I'll understand."_

_She could hear his voice wavering beneath his resolve, confirming a part of him deep down didn't really mean it. That despite everything and how long it had been, he didn't want her to say no._

_The realization reached into her, stealing the breath from her lungs and twisting her insides. Forcing the tears to fall harder._

_One small word formed on her tongue._

_One word…._

_But she couldn't, no matter how hard she tried to push it out._

" _Just let me know, okay?"_

 _Leah took a deep breath, losing what she was going to say to his request, even though she knew there was no way she'd forget about it. All the struggle inside her and every day she'd spent imagining what it would feel like crystal clear in the only word she_ could  _give him._

" _Okay."_

_Seth sighed. "Alright, well...I'll talk to you later, Leah." He paused. "It was good to hear your voice."_

_The line went dead, the only noise in the stairwell the sound of Leah's labored breaths and her pulse pounding in her ears._

Leah opened her eyes, the edges of the memory receding into the corners of her mind.

Seth said more to her than she could have hoped. All the theories she'd had a year to dream up and all the worst-case scenarios went away each time she recycled his end of the conversation, every word on a constant loop in some part of her head.

It was a short conversation. Not much was said, but he didn't turn her away. He said what was necessary, and he hadn't told her to never call him again.

In fact, he'd done the exact opposite.

He'd asked her to come home.

It was a question she'd heard him speak several times before, but never like this. Maybe she was imagining it, but she couldn't help but feel there was a hint of finality to the words. That he was trying to make her see it would be the  _last_ time he would ask. That there wouldn't be another request following it.

That maybe it was his way of knowing something without actually knowing it...

That maybe he was trying to tell her it was now or never.

It wasn't the first time she'd felt it in the days leading up to that moment. It took her several minutes in the stairwell to pull herself together, including a trip to the bathroom to wash the tear stains off rosy cheeks. Watching herself in the mirror, she pulled in deep breath after deep breath until she knew she could hold herself together long enough to travel the dozens of floors and walk onto the street outside, knowing who would be waiting when she did.

When her feet hit the pavement outside the building, she immediately spotted Embry, his eyes already on her. As he leaned against the open door of the taxi, she tried to ignore the worry on Embry's face. Tried to focus on something other than the concern in his eyes when she crossed the distance separating them.

Finally reaching the cab, her feet stopped, finally meeting Embry's gaze the same time she felt the warmth of his fingertips trace the length of her arm.

"You okay?" he murmured.

Swallowing hard, she nodded, gIving him the most genuine smile she could to soothe whatever was left of his anxiety.

"Yeah, let's go."

She couldn't tell Embry - not yet, regardless of the fact she knew he'd be more than pleased she'd done it. That he'd be proud of her because she took that step. Fuck, she was proud of  _herself_ and no matter what, that fact wasn't lost on her. She knew how big it was, what she'd done. How she'd swallowed back so much to let her fingers dial that number and knowing full well that Embry was one of the largest reasons she was able to.

Still, even when they went their separate ways later that night, she told herself she'd made the right choice by not saying anything. She needed a moment, one where the answer Seth wanted - where the answer  _Embry_ more than likely wanted - wouldn't constantly be staring back at her in a pair of familiar ebony eyes.

So she tucked it all away, keeping it for later until she was forced to give Seth's question the attention she knew it deserved. The time she knew it would take to know for sure...

If going home was something she really could do.

A soft knock on her door pulled Leah out of her own head, her gaze snapping toward the door. Remembering to breathe, her eyes fell on Autumn, who was leaning against the doorframe. Eyes wide, a small smile played on her lips.

"You looked like you were about a million miles away there," she ventured quietly, adjusting her glasses.

Smiling, Leah shook her head slightly to clear it. "I was," she admitted. "Sorry." Leaning back in her chair, Leah crossed one leg over the other and raised an eyebrow in Autumn's direction. "Everything going alright today?"

Autumn released a dramatic sigh, pushing off the doorframe and treading into the office. "Well, I suppose that depends on your definition of alright," she speculated, eyes focused on the ceiling as she shrugged, "because I heard a rumor today. A rumor about a certain boss of mine who apparently likes to keep secrets from her favorite assistant."

Leah gaped at Autumn, unsure of what she was talking about. "And what rumor did you hear, Autumn?"

Gaze lowering to meet Leah's, Autumn crossed her arms in front of her. "Oh, just a little one. No big deal," she replied, feigning nonchalance, but Leah noticed the shift the moment Autumn stepped forward. When her serious expression disappeared completely, a wide grin and bright eyes taking its place. "Just that you got a promotion and failed to mention it to me!"

_Her promotion._

The one she was offered only two days earlier but hadn't , she'd almost forgotten about it, the news obscured by everything that happened in the hours following it.

Leah swallowed anxiously, silently wondering how it was possible Autumn seemed more excited about it than she was.

"Where'd you hear that?"

"Please," Autumn scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully. "I'm an assistant. One of many here, and assistants know everything. It's like a secret society in this firm."

"Remind me never to talk about my life in the break room again," Leah muttered, raising her eyebrows in Autumn's direction..

"So?" Autumn queried, ignoring Leah and her miserable attempts to deflect from the subject.

"So, what?"

Autumn groaned. "Are you gonna take it?" She glowered at Leah, lips parted expectantly. "Please tell me you're gonna take it."

Leah left one eyebrow up. "Do you say that because you're genuinely interested in me taking the position or because it means mine will open up for you?"

Grin fading a little, Autumn's shoulders lifted and fell with a despondent breath. "Well, if we're being honest? Both." Leah bit her lip to keep from smiling, knowing deep down Autumn was just as ambitious as Leah was a few years earlier. "But of course I want you to take it," Autumn pressed. "You're a rock star here, Leah. If anyone has earned it, you have. It's well-deserved, and I say that not just as your assistant, but as your friend, too."

Friend.

It was a word Leah had fought for a long time. One she wasn't interested in, regardless of who was extending it. Autumn had tried for the better part of a year to convince Leah she was worth befriending. That she could be trusted - that Leah could talk to her - but Leah was never interested.

Still, the way Autumn was standing in front of her - a tangible sincerity written all over her features - Leah suddenly recognized it in a way she'd never taken the time to notice it before. The gleam in her eye. The softness in her face.

It almost took her breath away, giving her a moment to think about it.

Where she'd seen that look before.

And she could feel a different kind of warmth bloom somewhere inside her. Reinforcing Autumn's constant gestures of friendship. Causing Leah's lips to part, releasing a reply she would not have less than a week earlier.

"Well, I haven't accepted it yet," she admitted, noticing how Autumn took a step forward, her hand gripping the back of the chair in front of Leah's desk.

"How come?" Autumn asked softly. "I figured that would be a no-brainer for you."

Leah shrugged, tightening her grip on the armrests of her chair. "It's a big move. A lot more responsibility, and I just want to make sure I'm... _ready_  for it before I take it. That I know it's what I want."

Rolling her eyes in disbelief, Autumn made a disapproving noise in her throat. "You? Not ready? I doubt that." She moved to the side of the chair, eyeing Leah warily as one brow lifted in curiosity. "Couldn't have anything to do with your friend from home who showed up here on Thursday looking for you...could it?"

Grimacing, Leah shook her head wildly.

Even if she couldn't ignore the fact her heart leapt into the back of her throat the moment Autumn suggested it.

"No," Leah responded firmly. "We're just friends."

Autumn's eyebrows went back up, causing her glasses to slide down her nose. "Really?" She pushed the glasses back up with her index finger. "Coulda fooled me."

Leah rolled her eyes, ignoring how she was smiling. Ignoring that familiar warmth curling its way through her insides. The way her body responded to Autumn's insinuations. By simply alluding to Embry…

Taking a deep breath, Leah forced her face to relax, taking the smile with it. "Well, I promise you, Autumn, if I take the job, which I'm sure I will...you'll be one of the first to know," she assured. "Then you can spread your own rumors next time."

"Damn right," Autumn chuckled, taking a step back. "And you better believe I'm applying for your job, so I'll expect a glowing recommendation from you, not to mention a long line of tips and tricks as soon as you get done writing that. You know, tell me how I can charm Wes and John into thinking I'd do a fraction of the job you do..." With a wink, she turned to go.

Leah leaned forward in her chair, elbows hitting the smooth glass.

Letting the rest of what she wanted to say tumble from her lips.

"However…"

Stopping, Autumn peered over her shoulder, hand gripping the door frame.

"Maybe I can start prepping you now," Leah suggested, offering the other woman a reserved smile. "Lunch this weekend?"

Autumn's grin returned, brighter than Leah had seen it in awhile.

"That would be awesome."

* * *

The small pizza box was hot beneath Leah's fingers as she pushed out the door of Giordano's onto the busy street. Turning right, she started the short trek to the Park Hyatt, the heady smell of marinara and pepperoni drifting up from the sturdy, cardboard container. Making Leah's mouth water when it eventually reached her nostrils.

A small smile crossing her lips, Leah quickened her pace toward her destination.

The rest of her work day had went by quickly, and as she watched the clock on her laptop move closer to six, she decided once she sent the day's last email that she didn't want to go home. She had a million things to do, forgotten errands piling up from more than a week's worth of turning a blind eye to them.

Still, a part of her didn't care. It was the same part that prompted her to lean forward in her chair, purposeful fingers reaching for her cell phone on the desk. Sweeping over the keypad as she typed in a quick message before sending it.

_Up for some company tonight? Was thinking pizza…_

It was fifteen minutes before she left the office, but her phone remained silent. Tucking it into her purse, she tried not to think about it when she left the building. Hopping into a taxi, she instructed the driver where to take her, trying not to jump to conclusions. Checking her phone several times on the short drive to the pizza place.

Even when the taxi driver left her on the sidewalk outside Giordano's, she still hadn't heard back from Embry.

Squaring her shoulders, Leah reached for a confidence she knew she had within. Reminding herself that despite the silence, she and Embry were probably past the point of personal invitations and needing permission anyway. Telling herself he'd appreciate the surprise, especially if it came with dinner.

Several minutes later, Leah was standing in front of Embry's hotel room door, clasping the pizza box tighter against her body. She could hear him moving around inside, and that knowledge alone soothed the small bit of latent anxiety she'd allowed to build in the pit of her stomach.

Swallowing the last ounce of it back, Leah held her breath - a different kind of nervousness assaulting her insides - when she brought her fist up, knocking lightly on the door.

The footsteps ceased, and Leah still refused to breathe. Counting the seconds before she heard the faint shuffling resume, moving closer to the where she stood.

Rising up and down on the balls of her feet, Leah could feel the heat from the pizza soaking through through the box and into her skin. A small smile spread across her lips when the handle finally turned, her eyes lifting when the door opened swiftly.

The way Embry looked when he realized it was her enough to make her take a small step back.

"Leah…" he whispered, his eyes inexplicably wide. Unnervingly blank. His lips still parted in dismay long after her name fell from them.

"Hey," she said, forcing the smile to stay on her face. Trying to push down how much the way he was looking at her brought back that anxiety, banishing all the confidence she'd drawn from on her walk there.

Like she was the last person he expected to be on the other side of the door.

Like she was the last person he  _wanted_  to be standing there.

Her skin went cold, letting her eyes sweep over his tense frame, reaching his when he finally glanced down at the box she held in her hands.

"So, I, uh...I brought pizza," she added quickly, words fumbling as she remembered to speak, moving the box in front of her. "Giordano's. You haven't really eaten pizza until you've had theirs."

Embry tried to smile, but there was something missing on his expression. The warmth wasn't there. His eyes were apprehensive as they studied the box. His fingers trembling as he finally reached out to take it from her. Without a word, he took a couple steps back, placing the box on a surface Leah couldn't see.

_Still not inviting her in._

Frowning in spite of herself, she tried to ignore how heavy her insides suddenly felt. How her stomach was already turning, despite Embry barely speaking a word.

He shifted, quickly moving back to the door, his gaze catching hers. Both eyes were dark with an insistence that hadn't been there before.

"Can you come back later?"

Shaking her head without really understanding why, Leah gaped at him, searching his face for a reason behind the odd request. How it didn't really make sense and wondering if maybe showing up at his door unannounced was taking it too far. That maybe it was a bad idea…

" _Please…_ "

Embry's voice was practically a whisper, his arm propped against the doorframe, body leaning heavily against it. Blocking her view of the room behind him.

Still, she didn't move. She  _couldn't_  move as she watched him, refusing to speak. Searching for some kind of explanation because she could still see something in his eyes. A desperation. A desire to keep her there, although something else - something stronger - was begging her to walk away.

Pulling in a deep breath, she listened instead, counting heartbeats for some inexplicable reason. The one suddenly pounding in her ears. The nervous, frenetic pulse just a few inches away…

And a third one. A distant one.

One coming from behind Embry. From behind a wall, or maybe a closed door.

As Leah realized, for the first time, Embry wasn't the only person in his hotel room.

Her insides turned cold.

Gaze turning toward Embry, hard, skeptical eyes locked with his. Beneath the cold, she could feel that burning deep within, scratching its way from a place she had put it two nights earlier. Wanting loose. Wanting to consume her the way it did for nearly six years, its edges white-hot, finding her fingers as they curled into tight fists as her sides.

Yet Embry didn't move. He didn't back down, eyes still fixed determinedly on hers.

Still  _pleading_  the moment Leah heard a door open. When she heard a voice from inside the hotel room.

"Alright, Em, I'm thinking if we can get all this resolved and sign the papers tomorrow, we'll just…"

The voice stopped.

A  _male_ voice.

A  _familiar_  voice.

_No..._

But the pounding in Leah's chest had already stopped. The heat in her veins receded quicker than it came, leaving her completely frozen in place. Unable to move as her eyes remained on Embry, holding onto them for dear life. Watching all his breath leave him, her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands when Embry stepped forward, the certainty finally back in his eyes. Returning just in time...

_It was still too late._

Leah had to remind herself to breathe when Embry reached out, his fingers grasping her wrist.

Keeping her there. Answering her silent request.

"You can do this," he whispered, the sincerity in his gaze willing her to listen. To remember those words, if nothing else, in the moments that were sure to follow.

Lips parting, Leah shook her head.

She couldn't. She couldn't do this. Not yet.

_Not yet..._

"Oh, shit, is that dinner? I've got some cash, dude..."

The person was closer. The heartbeat grew louder. Leah's eyes closed and she could feel it, brought on by the scent approaching her. By the simple sound of his voice, wrapping itself around her insides. Everything about it commanding her attention. Everything about it  _powerful_ , appealing to a life and a side of her she no longer claimed.

Everything about it familiar yet so completely different.

_Holding her in place..._

Body trembling viscerally, she opened her eyes in time to see a copper hand curl around Embry's shoulder. Moving him out of the way.

The footsteps stopped. The  _heartbeat_ stopped. Another pair of eyes went wide.

Eyes - ones that had also seen inside her soul - now staring directly into hers.

"Leah..."

The color drained from Jacob Black's face, his gaze clouded with a fierce disbelief at the woman standing in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Plot twist!
> 
> Before you (may or may not) throw rotten tomatoes at me, I HAVE A PLAN. :)
> 
> Can't wait to hear your thoughts!


	15. Different

_**Suggested Listening: "A Rush of Blood to the Head" by Coldplay, "Oats in the Water" by Ben Howard, "Nothing to Remember" by Neko Case, "Tomorrow" by Daughter, "Drift" by Daughter, "Atlas" by Coldplay** _

Leah's hands curled into fists, unable to look away as Jacob gaped at her, a million different emotions swirling through his onyx eyes.

Blinking rapidly, she could only watch as he shook his head in disbelief. She could only stand there as he took a step forward.

What she couldn't do was fucking  _move_ , his stony, unbelieving gaze refusing to let her go.

She didn't think it was possible, but her blood ran colder the longer he stared at her. Skin crawling, everything inside withered beneath it. A part of that look confirming he was still in shock. Another part containing a thousand questions. A flare of anger, a subtle betrayal.

God, she wanted to get out of there. She wanted to disappear. She wanted to do  _anything_ but stand there and let him look at her like that.

Still, she couldn't move, something stronger holding her in place.

So she held her breath instead. She waited, heart pounding viciously against her ribs.

Several moments passed before Jacob finally allowed himself to look away, glancing at Embry for some kind of an explanation. For answers to whatever questions he held inside his head in that moment.

Embry didn't look back.

Leah felt herself take a step away, finally free from whatever it was that forbid her to move.

And she could feel those ebony eyes watching  _her_. Waiting.

Worrying.

Hoping like hell this wouldn't undo  _everything_.

Body releasing a rough shudder, she felt her feet take another step.

"Leah…"

That time it was Embry who spoke her name. He took his own step forward, negating hers. Still, it didn't matter. Removed from the moment that held her in place, her head was coming back, putting it all together. Wondering how in the hell Embry failed to mention Jacob was coming to her city. That he would be in his hotel room.

_That he hadn't warned her..._

She could feel so many words on her tongue, pushed forward by the fire in her veins, sweeping away the cold with each passing second.

_So many words…_

But she kept them in her mouth, somehow managing to tear her gaze from Embry's and look at Jacob, whose lips were moving slightly, despite no sound coming out. His own words failing to materialize.

Leah didn't say anything.

Instead, she let the heat inside her rush to where she needed it most, all of it gathering in her legs. The edges of it reached out, causing her eyes to find Embry's. To show him everything she was thinking without a single word.

Another part of her silently begging him to do  _something_ to keep her there. To prove her wrong, even if she knew deep down it wouldn't make a difference.

It didn't matter. Her feet moved inherently, refusing to wait for permission. Refusing to wait for his reaction, her body shifting, self-preservation winning out.

Turning her back on both of them.

"Leah!"

She could hear Embry's voice behind her, laced with a hint of desperation. She could hear his feet moving across the carpeted hallway, following her.

Fuck, it almost made her stop, a larger part of her screaming to give him the benefit of the doubt. To let him speak. To listen to him.

To let him show her, just like he had every day since he showed up.

To  _trust_ him.

_To talk to Jacob…_

"Leah, wait!"

Nearing the end of the hallway, the throbbing inside her chest was excruciating. One part demanded she keep going, the other - caused by the voice behind her and a better sense she knew she held somewhere - screamed at her to turn around.

"Leah!"

The voice was different. Stronger.  _Not_ Embry's, thick with purpose and heavy with an infallible demand.

"Stop."

The decision was made for her.

Leah's feet stopped moving.

Breath catching in her lungs, Leah reached out, hand grasping fruitlessly at the smooth plane of the wall beside her. Feet leaden, the air pushed rapidly past her lips as she willed her legs to move. As she tried to refuse what the other voice asked of her.

She  _couldn't_.

With a frustrated groan, Leah slammed her fist against the wall, feet finally moving but only to turn her around. Facing the way she came, her wild glare found Jacob first. It landed on his stoic frame standing in the middle of the hallway, his jaw tight and shoulders squared. Knowing it was his words that stopped her, his eyes uncompromising.

Leah shook her head, hating that even after six years, it was  _still_ something she had to feel.

That the animal inside her, one she kept contained, was still required to submit to his order.

She was moving before she realized it. Approaching Jacob, her breath spilled from her mouth in rapid gasps, the fire consuming her before she finally reached him.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, Jacob Black?" Leah seethed, standing in front of Jacob in little time. Both hands came up, pushing against his chest, despite the fact he didn't budge. "What makes you think that after all this time you can come here and order me around like one of your fucking puppies?"

Jacob swallowed, his frame unyielding despite the conflict in his eyes, one not quite able to mask the haze of questions still needing answers.

He took a deep breath. "You left once and there was nothing I could do to stop you...now I can."

Leah growled, the sound barely masking how she faltered. How she took a surprised step back.

Shaking her head anyway, her lips pulled into a grimace. Unable to argue with what he said, her own stubborn resolve did little to negate the true meaning of the words. Still, she hated how he did it all the same.

"You have no fucking right," she snarled, refusing to release his stare. Projecting her own sincerity through every means she could because no matter how far she had come, that  _still_ wasn't something she wanted.

"I can't... _do_  this with you right now. Had I known you were here…" Her voice drifted, and Leah turned her stare on Embry, who watched her from a few paces behind Jacob, his chest heaving with suppressed breaths. "I wouldn't have set foot in this hotel."

Embry's face crumpled. Seeing it pulled at something in Leah, that same something she felt when she tried to walk away. As she heard his voice calling for her as she did.

It pulled something from Jacob, too, noticing how he picked up a look in her eyes she wasn't completely aware of. Doing it without asking a single question.

"He didn't know, Leah," Jacob interrupted, taking a step forward, both his stance and his expression softening. As he inwardly figured out he wasn't going to get far with the Alpha tactics he was used to.

Leah blinked in surprise, a part of her taken aback by his words, questioning how in the hell it was possible Embry  _didn't_ know.

Even though she was unable to ignore the nagging in her gut. The all-too-clear feeling that confirmed she'd known it all along.

"What?"

"He didn't know," Jacob repeated, attempting a smile. Trying to lighten the tension swallowing them whole. "I tried calling him, but the idiot refused to answer his phone."

Ignoring how she trembled, Leah's mind instinctively floated back to the night before. How her eyes watched Embry pull his phone from his pocket, his gaze lingering before he put it back, leaving the call unanswered.

"But you're here, so…" Jacob took another step forward, interrupting her thoughts. His eyes were wide, regarding her like a wild animal. His movements slow, almost like he was trying entirely too hard not to spook her.

 _Fuck, she couldn't blame him_...

"Why don't you stay awhile?"

Leah's heart faltered in her chest. There was no order in his voice. No command. The question was exactly that - a question. His words ensured she had an option. His tone reaffirming it was her choice.

It rattled Leah, especially when she finally took a moment to let her eyes travel the man standing in front of her. Holding her breath, she looked harder than she allowed herself to before, searching for the Jacob she remembered. The seventeen-year-old kid she'd last seen.

She didn't know if it was possible, but somehow he'd grown. Somehow, he looked older, too. Bigger. His frame was fuller than she remembered it. Broader. His cropped hair was gone, replaced by a long wave of black tied loosely behind his shoulders.

She kept trying, attempting to find any sign of the stubborn, bull-headed kid she remembered beneath his altered frame. The one who always spoke before he thought better of it, throwing caution to the wind and dealing with the consequences of his words later.

She couldn't find him.

She couldn't see any of it, at least not in that moment.

Instead, all she could see was a loyal determination, a steady confidence. An infinite patience that was entirely new, a sign of the boy that was no longer there. She saw power, strength, and wisdom - several facets combining to define the man he'd turned into.

And the longer she held his gaze, the clearer she could see...the eyes of a leader. A new Alpha. One who always put his pack before himself.

_His pack..._

Fuck, she'd seen that powerful hue before. She'd seen that look, in another pair of eyes, so many years earlier…

She remembered when it went away. When it disappeared completely...

Leah couldn't contain the shudder as it ripped up her spine.

But she didn't move, her body still shaking. Every part of her struck dumb by it all, even as she continued to look. As she held on to Jacob's eyes. As a part of her realized she'd seen the rest of what lay in them - the determination, the patience, the  _reassurance_ \- in someone else.

Blinking, she glanced quickly over Jacob's shoulder.

FInding the eyes she was thinking of.

Eyes that, with a similar look, constantly reminded her he was on  _her_ side...

"I don't want to do this here," she murmured, shaking her head. "I don't want to stand in some hallway in the middle of a hotel and try to pretend like this is how I wanted all this to happen, Jake. I didn't want to do this...not yet."

"Yet?"

When Jacob spoke, Leah glanced back to Embry. Expression conflicted and anxious, his body instinctively leaned forward, like all he wanted to do was close the distance separating them.

Like all he wanted to do was protect her from all of it, even though he knew better than anyone how badly she needed to face it.

Jacob noticed, throwing a subtle glimpse over his shoulder before turning back to Leah.

"Okay," he continued firmly, "let's get out of the hallway then. How about we go back in the room?" He flashed her another tentative grin. "That pizza you brought smelled really fucking good."

She couldn't return the smile - not yet, everything inside her preparing for a hundred questions she wasn't sure she would be able to answer. Still completely blown away by how Jacob was holding each one of them in, despite the fact she wasn't daft enough to think he didn't want to ask.

She also remembered everything she put Embry through before she could even admit how fucked up she was…

_That was then…_

_That was_ before…

She eventually allowed Embry to be there.

She eventually called her brother.

And she couldn't help but think that even though  _this_  eventually had come sooner than anticipated, maybe it wouldn't be as hard as the night she first saw Embry in that bar. Or as difficult as it was to dial the numbers herself to hear Seth's voice. To invite Autumn to lunch. To put herself out there. To offer her friendship to someone for the first time in years, even if it was in the smallest of ways.

_She'd come this far..._

Still, she didn't have a chance to respond before Jacob turned, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking away without another word. Leah's lips parted in surprise, watching as he disappeared into the hotel room.

As he gave her the choice to follow.

However, Embry stayed where he was, the way he shifted from one foot to the other buying him some time. It caused her to feet to grow roots, an inherent part of her still not wanting to follow Jacob. When Leah eventually ripped her gaze from the path he took, she let her eyes find Embry's concerned gaze, the expression in it bordering a fine line between subtle concern and something more prominent.

More pride, despite it all.

Swallowing, Leah tried like hell to pull herself together. She looked away, doing everything in her power to hang onto the microscopic strands of confidence flickering somewhere inside her.

"Can you stop looking at me like that?" She'd spoken similar words before. "I'm not gonna break."

She heard the breath push past his lips. "I know," he murmured, and she looked up in time to see him glance down at the floor. "I just...lost track of my phone, Leah. I swear I didn't know he was coming."

She didn't reply, a stubborn, more difficult part of her not wanting to let him off the hook so easy. A part of her still feeling like he could have warned her. That if he had, she could have had a moment to fucking  _breathe_. To come up for air during a week when she felt like she was barely staying afloat among past mistakes, mended bridges, and steps toward some kind of a fucked up definition of self-redemption.

But that wasn't how her life worked, and this moment was apparently no exception.

Several heavy, silent seconds passed before Embry sighed.

"Do you want me to stay?"

Leah took a deep breath, unable to push the thought from her mind. Unable to convince herself there  _wasn't_  a right and a wrong answer to that question.

But despite everything, she remembered what she thought the night before...about ripping off bandages.

About remembering who would be there when she was done, just in case she was left exposed and bleeding.

"No," she replied, astonished by the confidence in the word, even though her mind backpedaled when she heard Embry's heart stutter. "I just...I can do this...by myself."

She glanced at Embry just in time to see him nod, his features expressionless.

"Okay."

Leah couldn't stop the way her breath hitched when he moved, when Embry's body brushed past hers. How she stood there frozen for a split second, listening to his footsteps retreat. How her lips parted, a larger part of her wanting to ask where he was going. If he was coming back. How long he would be…

But she didn't, all the thoughts and words disappearing as she pulled a calming breath into her lungs. As she took a step forward, followed by another. As she made her way back to the hotel room she stood in front of minutes earlier.

The time it took to step into the room felt infinite, Leah's shaky fingers reaching out to close the door behind her. Wiping her clammy palms on her dress, she took another deep breath. Taking the steps she needed to, the room expanded around her.

Jacob was hunched over the desk, peering at an open laptop, two fingers aimlessly brushing over the trackpad.

He released a sigh, but he didn't look up.

"So, there was a complication with the deal...some papers the lawyers didn't have," he explained forlornly, despite the fact Leah hadn't uttered a single word. Clenching and unclenching her fists anxiously at her sides, Leah watched as he pulled his hands away from the computer, leaning against the desk but still staring at the screen. "And, since I'm the legal owner, turns out they needed those  _and_ my signature on at least one dotted line."

Leah crossed her arms tightly in front of her chest, leaning against the wall. Unable to look away, even when Jacob straightened. Even when he turned around, serious eyes catching hers.

"I'd explain it, but I'm assuming you already know most of what's going on…"

Bristling at the way he said it, Leah scowled. "I don't need your insinuations, Jacob," she said coldly. "In case you forgot, I didn't ask for you to be standing on the other side of the door when I showed up here."

"Point taken," Jacob replied quickly, dropping his gaze. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he leaned against the desk. "But you're here, and you can't blame me for wanting to know how. Or why…"

Ignoring that flicker of self-preservation still lingering somewhere inside her, Leah pushed herself off the wall, crossing the floor until she reached the bed. With an exhausted sigh, she turned, dropping to the mattress.

"Then tell me what you want from me," she said quietly, rubbing her face with her hands.

Jacob didn't speak, taking a moment to appraise her. Surprising her when he let out a frustrated groan, the reality of what was actually happening coming to a head.

"Jesus, Leah," Jacob exclaimed, his stare focused intently on her. "I…I don't even really know how to  _start_ this conversation. I like to think I've gotten pretty good at having ones like this over the years, but I'm just...I have about a million questions, and all of them I want answers to, but I won't get them all, no matter what I say."

Looking away, Leah's elbows pressed into her thighs. "I'd say you're right…" she muttered, "but you're about the thirteenth curve ball I've had thrown at me in the past week and I'm still standing, so you might get lucky. I might be feeling more inclined to give you answers just so I can put this one behind me…"

Arms dropping, Jacob's palms curled around the edge of the desk, his lips cracking an ironic smile. "Lucky me, then, huh?" When Leah scoffed, he took a deep breath, ignoring her sarcasm. "Alright, then...so I guess the best thing I can say is...that I want you to tell me what you're willing to tell me." He paused until Leah's face was expressionless. Until she looked up at him and he was certain he had her attention. "It's not an order, and I'm not requiring you to say anything, because you're right...that's not my place anymore, no matter what nature says. I won't force you, but I still want to know. So if I ask you a question and you want to answer it, go for it. If not, just tell me it's off limits, okay?"

Leah couldn't help the foreign smile that pulled at the corner of her mouth, Jacob's method coming off as more than ridiculous.

A part of her dumbfounded by how much she found herself  _appreciating_ him for it.

Leah nodded anyway, clasping her hands together. Pressing her fist tightly against her mouth, the questions eventually came.

"So how long have you been in Chicago?"

Leah took a breath, fueling her ability to get the words out.

"Since I left."

"Did your family know you were here?"

Leah nodded.

"And how long has Embry known?"

That time, she allowed her eyes to redirect, finding Jacob's wide, insistent stare trained on her. "Since the day he got here," she replied steadily, feeling like there was more she needed to explain. "I ran into him in a bar the night he flew in."

"So he's known the entire time he's been here?"

Leah nodded, recognizing the traces of disappointment in Jacob's voice, another part of her immediately going on the defensive. A part of her wanting to protect Embry from Jacob's insinuations, too.

"I told him not to tell you," she pushed out hurriedly, shaking her head. "When I told him that...I didn't want  _him_ here, let alone anyone else."

Jacob chewed on her words for a moment before glancing toward the floor. "That makes sense, I guess. Still wish he would have told me...but I guess Embry's always been protective when it comes to you."

Frowning, Leah didn't miss the twisting in her stomach. "What do you mean?"

Jacob looked up, meeting her curious eyes. "I mean, Seth aside, Em took it the hardest when you left, Leah...when no one would tell us where you were. He's the one who looked for you first, and the one who always stayed on an hour extra after his patrols to see if he could pick up anything that might lead us to believe you'd tried to come home."

Leah swallowed, a part of her speechless because of what Jacob said, another part of her wondering where it came from. Why he felt the need to tell her that when there were so many other things he could ask. So many other things he could tell her about.

"He told me you all looked for me...for awhile," she murmured hesitantly, a larger part of her not wanting to tell Jacob  _anything_ that happened since Embry showed up in Chicago. A part of her wanting to keep that to herself, too. "But he didn't tell me that."

Jacob shrugged. "I'm sure you know why he did," he replied, eyebrows lifting slightly. "I know he was the last one of us to see you before you left." When Leah raised her own surprised eyebrow, Jacob looked away. "He thinks no one knows, but he slips sometimes. He can't keep that barrier in place all the time. He's slipped, and I've seen it. How sometimes he blames himself."

Staring at her feet, Leah's stomach wrenched. "It wasn't his fault I left."

"I know," Jacob murmured, "and I'm pretty sure he knows that, too, but that's just Embry…"

Shaking her head, Leah refused to look back, focusing on the alarm clock resting on the nightstand instead.

"He shouldn't feel that way…"

Jacob made a noise of agreement in his throat, prompting Leah to glance at him. "No, he shouldn't," he reinforced, "but I think he just always thought he could have done  _more_...that, and he doesn't give up on people he cares about, which is pretty much the opposite of what the people who were  _supposed_ to care about  _him_ did." Jacob's eyes lingered for a moment before he pulled them away. "Still, I don't think it's just that."

Leah swallowed, refusing to ask what Jacob meant by it.

Another part of her knowing anyway...

But Jacob changed the subject, and she let a rough, shaky breath spill from her dry lips.

"So, are you...doing okay, Leah?" Jacob asked tentatively, his tone slightly sheepish. For a split second, bringing back a part of the kid she remembered. "It's been so long...did leaving lead you down the right path?"

Leah chuckled before she could stop it, the gesture sounding out of place as she shook her head in surprise. "You sound like your dad…"

She glanced back in time to see Jake grin. "Yeah, well...try growing up around it," he retorted. "Although it all kind of makes sense now why he always tried so hard to make sure all his lessons stuck."

The smile falling from her lips, Leah glanced back at her hands resting distractedly in her lap. "There's not much to tell. I went to college. I have a good job. I made a life for myself...for all intents and purposes."

Jacob didn't respond, and Leah couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. The one confirming he wasn't going to leave things where they were, that it wasn't the answer he was searching for. He was skating the thin ice of a surface she definitely did not want to breach. Not with him. Not yet.

"But you never came home. I think we all thought you would eventually, but you didn't. Not even to visit," he continued. "Why?"

Leah shrugged, closing her eyes and silently swearing to herself. She'd seen it coming, and a part of her screamed to simply speak those two words. Two words were all she needed and he'd leave it alone. He promised he'd leave it alone...

"I didn't want that life anymore."

_The wrong words..._

Wincing, she glanced up in time to see Jacob frown. "You didn't want your family?"

"No!" Leah exclaimed, lips parting in a frustrated scowl. "You know that's not what I fucking meant. Of  _course_ I wanted to see my family, but...it was one in the same, Jacob.  _All_ of them…" All kinds of wrong words were spilling out of a place she kept entirely too  _close_ to the surface these days, putting them on display for Jacob before she could be sure she was ready to tell him. "All of  _you_ tied back to it somehow. What happened...what I did. I just couldn't be there. And...everything just got worse... _inside_."

Jacob's shoulders lifted with a heavy, despondent breath. "We woulda helped you through it, Leah," he assured quietly. "Emily, she didn't…"

"Off limits."

That time, she remembered.

Jacob gaped at her, lips parted with stunned words still resting inside his mouth. "Okay," he pressed on tentatively, "but you  _know_ what I'm trying to say."

"I'll tell you the same thing I told Embry yesterday," Leah responded, eyes wide with purpose.  
"I didn't want to be a part of a life that took away my choices. That caused me to hurt people."

"But you just told me things got worse," Jacob murmured, his gaze knowing and unnerving and a hundred other things that seemed to debunk what she was saying.

Leah hesitated, the response she'd trained herself to say forming on her lips.

"I still don't regret it…"

"But you left...and you stayed away," Jacob pushed, his body leaning forward with conviction. "You could have called. You could have  _visited_. You could have talked to Embry, to me, to  _any_ of us...just to let us know where you were. That you were okay. That you were happy…"

"No, Jake, I  _couldn't_ have," Leah ground out from between clenched teeth, matching his purposeful stare with her own. "You can't come here and pretend like you understand what happened with me the past six years. I can sit here and talk to you about this  _now_ , but fuck…" She shook her head, suddenly unable to look at him, staring at some invisible spot on the floor instead. " _So much_  has changed. Ten days ago, I would not be sitting here talking to you about this and I wouldn't be within a hundred miles of this hotel if I knew you were here."

She swore she could hear Jacob swallow, letting the words settle between them for a split second before he asked the question she knew he would. Knowing he wanted to understand, at least a little bit, what had kept her away for so long.

"Then where would you be, if you wouldn't be here?"

Eyes squeezing shut, Leah drew in a deep breath, forcing out the rest. "I would be out chasing some  _part_ of that person you remember...the one I left behind when I ran. I'd be chasing her but would never really be catching her...because I left her there, Jake. I didn't care about any of it...any of  _you_ , and I constantly told myself that. The person you knew? The one who gave a fuck? The one who was good at that life before she ruined it? She was long gone by the time I got here."

Leah forced her eyes open. Head tipping toward Jacob, she implored him to understand what she was saying in the words she was allowing.

"And she's just  _now_ starting to come back..."

There was a flicker of comprehension in Jacob's steady eyes when she spoke the words, as he searched hers and let them answer probably a dozen more questions he wanted to ask. As he let at least a few puzzle pieces fall quietly into place.

"So you just decided to inflict all the hurt on yourself to spare everyone else. Am I close?"

Leah swallowed, the truth behind the words knocking the air from her lungs, causing any other words to evaporate in her mouth. She dropped her gaze, once again training it on the floor, fingers wringing together anxiously on her lap.

"I'd say that's about as close as you're gonna get."

The silence was heavy, and Leah caught herself wondering what else there was to say. What else there  _possibly_ was that Jacob would want to know.

Still, he wasn't close to finished.

"Listen," he pressed on quietly. "I'm not gonna pretend like I know what's happened all these years, or where your life went besides what you've already told me, and I'm not going to ask...even though I want to. I don't want to give you the third degree and ask you if you made the right choice, because I think I have a pretty good idea."

Leah could hear the mild insinuation again, but she glanced away, turning her head away from him. Refusing to bite back, a larger part of her knowing that wasn't what he meant by it. That he wasn't trying to be cruel. That he wasn't trying to provoke her.

Knowing that Jacob had always been perceptive, and knowing - as Alpha - it was his job to know his pack.

_His pack…_

Leah closed her eyes, fighting back the urge to shut down.

"Thank you," she said instead.

"But I do want you to know," Jacob whispered, "that you still hurt us, too."

The restraint was swept away with his words. Leah could feel all the venom resurfacing, all the heat wanting to push its way through her veins. Opening her eyes, she turned her head toward him. She wanted to let it all fall from her lips, to remind Jacob just how much  _she_ hurt the past six years.

But she didn't, because it didn't matter. She swallowed it back because Leah wasn't dense or selfish enough to deny what he was saying was truth. She'd heard it in her brother's voice. She'd seen it in Embry's eyes...

Leah closed hers again.

"I know…"

Jacob sighed, the heaviness behind it towing a line of regret and exhaustion Leah couldn't fathom.

"Listen, Leah, I'm not trying to make you feel guilty. I swear I'm not," he insisted. "I've always hoped this would happen eventually...and I've always thought of this conversation I'd have with you about a million times in my head."

"Is it living up to your expectations?" Leah asked, unable to hide the sarcasm in her voice.

Jacob chuckled. "Trying to prepare for it was kind of pointless, yeah."

Leah didn't look away in time to hide the small smile on her mouth.

"But that's something I do know," Jacob continued. "I  _know_ what it did to everyone at home when you left, and even though I don't expect you to understand, I think deep down, you do. I think you know, too. What it did to me, to your family, to Embry. To the rest of the pack..."

Leah didn't reply, her lips pressing into a thin line as she tried to ignore the burning in her eyes. It was a feeling she fucking hated, a different kind of shame, but one she'd felt often in the days leading up to the moment they were in.

"There's been a huge hole...since you left," Jacob murmured as Leah bit down hard on the inside of her lip, trying to distract herself but listening despite it all. "Not just in the pack, but in our  _Iives_ , Leah. I don't think you understand the role you played before...everything happened. What you meant to us, and how helpless everyone felt because there was nothing we could do to find you because the only people who knew were too afraid to tell us because of their own fear."

Leah blinked rapidly, the moisture flaming against her skin as it left a trail down her cheek. She recognized what Jacob was saying, his words reinforcing something she refused to believe for years, despite the fact it was something she always knew. She knew because it was in her mother's voice whenever Leah talked to her, in the year she went without speaking to her brother. It was in Embry's eyes the first time she walked away from him in that bar.

And even though she was trying, it still left her wishing - hoping, more than ever - that she would eventually be able to fix it.

"Good to see you're still kind of a know-it-all, Jacob," Leah said sarcastically, thankful there was still a hint of jest laced through the words.

Jacob chuckled, and a part of Leah was grateful he'd picked up on it, too. "No...I've just gotten pretty perceptive doing this." With a sigh, he pushed himself off the desk. "Still, I want you to know...that no one has filled that void, Leah. It's always been there, and I think you've felt it, too. And maybe you don't know this, but we've do...we know there's only one person who can fill it."

Leah glanced down at her feet, Her hand reaching up to swipe away residual tears, knowing what he was saying. Recognizing the way he was doing it, Jacob's words doing something to validate the fact that the loneliness - the emptiness - she'd felt all the years she'd been away maybe wasn't something where the cause rested solely on her.

That maybe it was something beyond her control. That maybe she'd exacerbated it by the walls she put in place.

"How long has it been since you phased?"

Leah closed her eyes, the answer coming to her immediately.

"Not since that night."

She heard Jacob take a deep breath. "Do you think that was the right choice?"

Leah looked up to see Jacob watching her, his expression stoic and unwavering, reassuring her that no matter what, there was no right or wrong answer to the question.

"Yes," she said shakily, blinking rapidly before she looked away. Before she opened her mouth to speak again. "Maybe...I don't know."

Jacob let the silence linger a moment before he continued. "Well, it doesn't matter whether it was or wasn't. It's still a part of you, and I'm sure you've felt  _that_ , too.  _We're_ still a part of you as much as you're a part of us. You're pack, Leah."

Leah winced, confused by how he could say that with so much certainty after how much time had passed. Especially considering how many bridges she'd burned and relationships she'd jeopardized.

"It's not just something you can turn off," Jacob pressed, not waiting for her to respond. "It's not something  _we_ can turn off, and it's not something you can either. And no matter what you think...no matter what anyone made you believe or how much you think we might have gave up...we don't give up on pack. And regardless of whether or not you still phase, you're still a part of this one."

Shaking her head, Leah gaped at Jacob in disbelief, even though she could remember someone else telling her that not that long ago.

_I'm part of your pack, Leah, and we don't give up on pack, and I'm not gonna give up on you..._

Still, she had to ask.

"I don't understand how you can say that...not after all this time."

"I can say it...with confidence even," Jacob reassured, his brow lifting determinedly. "And I know Embry. If you didn't have a good  _reason_ for staying away as long as you did, I know he wouldn't still be here. I know there's a reason he is, and I know there's a reason you are, too."

Leah pressed her lips together tightly, letting the silence settle between them. Letting Jacob's words filter through her. Processing them. Thinking about each one.

"So, listen...I'm done. I won't say any more, but I will say one thing," Jacob spoke up, turning as he walked toward the opposite side of the room. "I can't promise you it would be easy after all this time, but I can promise you there's truth in everything I just told you. If you were to ever come home, even to visit, you'd have my support. That your family...and your pack...would be happier to see you than you might think."

And Leah wondered, because Jacob was also the second person to tell her that no matter what she did, no matter how far she ran, she was still a part of the very thing she had ran  _from_.

That she was still a  _welcome_ part of it, if what Jacob said was true. Even after all she did. No matter how long it had been.

Still, that didn't mean she wanted it.

It didn't mean she wanted to go back.

_Not yet..._

"So the pizza is probably cold…"

Jacob smiled, looking toward the box on the other side of the room. "It'll probably taste just as good. Tell you what, Em better get back soon or else he's gonna miss out." He frowned, throwing a cursory glance toward the door. "Where the hell did he go anyway?"

"I don't know," Leah whispered. "For a walk, I think."

When Jacob reached the pizza box, he glanced at Leah over his shoulder, one incredulous eyebrow lifting.

"Is there something going on with you and Embry?"

Leah's breath caught in her chest. "What?"

"He has this look…" Jacob dipped his hand into the box, emerging seconds later with a thick slice of pizza. "I'm not  _just_ his Alpha. I've been the guy's best friend since before we could walk."

Swallowing past the tightness in her throat, Leah's voice came out in a whisper. Not just unwilling to answer his question, but unable to give it an answer he would understand.

Fuck,  _she_  didn't even understand it.

"Off limits."

Pausing with the slice of pizza suspended halfway between the box and his mouth, Jacob eventually nodded, his head dropping in silent understanding.

He bit into the food, and Leah finally remembered to breathe.

The same moment she heard a soft knock on the door.

Rolling his eyes goodnaturedly, Jacob shuffled over to the door, pizza still in hand, throwing it open as Leah caught herself once again holding the air in her chest.

"Dude...this is your fucking hotel room. I really don't think knocking is necessary."

Leah watched as Embry pushed past Jacob, distraught eyes immediately finding hers, silently searching to make sure he'd come back at the right time. That he'd given them enough of it. Looking for that, and looking for about a thousand other things in the span of a second.

She didn't speak. Instead, she only gave him a tight-lipped smiled, the knot sitting in the bottom of her stomach unraveling slightly when she did.

"So, I'm gonna take this with me…"

It took Leah a moment to look away from Embry, to realize Jacob was speaking again. Blinking in surprise, she focused on him, eyebrows knit together in confusion.

Jacob shrugged. "I need to check in. This room only has one bed."

Leah watched as Jacob picked up a large duffel bag from the floor, chewing noisily on a huge bite of pizza. Embry stepped aside, tentative eyes watching Jacob as he passed.

Jacob opened the door before slowly turning around, a light smile resting on his lips. "So, I'm glad we did this. I'm glad you showed up, Leah, even if you're probably kicking yourself for it now." He chuckled, and Leah glanced at her lap, hiding her own smile. "I do have one last question though…"

Glancing up, Leah shot him a curious frown. "And what's that?"

Jacob's smile stayed where it was. "When's the last time you talked to your brother?"

Swallowing thickly, Leah noticed the absence in her stomach - how it didn't twist into a thousand tiny knots. How it didn't ache with the fierce regret she was used to.

How she felt like, maybe, she could finally talk about it with an honesty she hadn't felt in so long.

Leah could feel Embry watching her, everything he'd seen before expecting her to react differently. Preparing for those reactions she  _wasn't_ feeling to come to a head.

They never showed up.

Leah took a deep breath.

"Last night," she whispered.

Jacob's smile widened, taking a step through the doorway but never looking away from her. "Good. So I'll see you at the wedding, I take it?"

Leah could still feel another pair of eyes, burning holes straight through her.

She smiled back - a small one, but a smile all the same - trying to ignore everything else. A part of her still not understanding how any of it happened. How she'd found herself in this situation.

How she'd made it through, discovering that if she  _did_ decide to go home, she may have another ally there after all.

Another friend to help her through it.

"Maybe," she answered softly.

Jacob chuckled. "That's better than nothing, I suppose." He glanced up, looking behind her to Embry. "Don't ever let me tell you you're horrible at keeping secrets again." When Embry looked away, Jacob shook his head, still smiling. "Anyway, don't forget...the signing is tomorrow morning now. I'm gonna see if I can get your return flight pushed back to tomorrow afternoon because with that out of the way, I could really use you back to manage the shop while I start scouting properties for the new one."

Leah had no idea why, but her heart faltered, all the air escaping her body at Jacob's suggestion.

Tomorrow…

She tried to inhale, but the tightness only grew worse, her fingers curling around the comforter beneath her. The reminder bringing forward a realization she somehow managed to forget about until that moment.

_Tomorrow…_

And for some inexplicable reason, the word was only followed by two more.

_Too soon…_

And she did the worst possible thing in that moment.

She looked up from her lap, conflicted, confused eyes seeking out Embry. Forgetting the things she thought before she and Jacob talked, everything else coming back. All the warmth, all the safety. All the moments that had nothing to do with Jacob and everything to do with her and Embry, mixed with the tangible certainty of something else.

Fear.

Fear of losing it.

Fear of losing  _him_...

Leaning against the wall, Embry was already watching her, ignoring Jacob's expectant stare as he held hers. Silently telling her he'd already thought about it.

That he was thinking the exact same thing.

Somehow, in the middle of everything that happened the twenty-four hours before, she'd forgotten just how numbered the minutes they had left were. How Jacob saying it out loud reminded her Embry wasn't going to be there forever. How she already knew he had a life so many miles away despite letting herself forget, if only for a moment.

Beneath all that, she also remembered all the minutes they had  _before_ that one and how - in one instant, for some inexplicable reason - it wasn't  _nearly_ enough.

 _Tomorrow_ wasn't enough.

She couldn't figure out why it mattered, but she couldn't bring herself to look away first.

And neither could Embry, but his lips parted, breath leaving him before he spoke low, purposeful words.

"I think I'm gonna stick around till Thursday," he murmured, eyes still holding Leah's. "If that's okay…"

Holding her breath, Embry's words confirmed what she already thought. A part of her expected Jacob to argue, to tell Embry he had no choice in the matter. That his life - the one he had so far away - and all the responsibilities that went along with it were more important than this.

She made herself look away, forcing her eyes to find Jacob instead, still refusing to breathe. Waiting as he watched Embry, that same knowing look in his eyes from earlier.

"Well, we survived this long without you," Jacob replied softly, glancing at the floor and taking another step into the hallway. "Suppose we can get by another couple days." He shot a brief glance toward Leah. "See you soon, hopefully."

And with that, she watched him pull the door closed, encasing the room in silence. Leaving her and Embry alone.

Embry didn't speak a word and neither did Leah, even though she recycled the few words he had said in her head. How he'd asked to stay longer. How he'd refused to leave even though Jacob needed him. Even though his life was anxiously awaiting his arrival back home.

As she tried to figure out what it meant.

How she already  _knew_ , all the definition she needed buried not so deep in the pair of ebony eyes she could still feel watching her.

All of it in Jacob's words from earlier.

_He doesn't give up on the people he cares about._

Something she already knew, the proof of it in every single moment of the past ten days.

_He has this look…_

One she'd already seen. One - as she finally allowed herself to look up, to find those eyes - she could see in that moment. The same warmth, affection,  _pride_ she was used to.

She knew why - why he stayed. Why he came back. Why he didn't want to leave.

Because it was there - all of it, mixed with something new. A glimmer of something else, something that had  _always_ been there but she'd never noticed before. That he'd contained. Words she wouldn't allow herself to think and ones she wasn't sure she could bring herself to hear. Not now. Maybe not ever...

Still, she couldn't ignore the feeling in the pit of her stomach, the one that knew better. The one that should have seen it coming. The one that didn't want to  _let_ him. She couldn't ignore it.

But she was going to. She already knew that, too.

She was going to because all of it - beneath the anxiety, the fear it brought forth - she finally recognized the feeling inside  _her_. The safety, her own warmth, the confidence those eyes brought out of her. The urge to do better.

To  _be_ better.

For herself…

And for  _him_.

She recognized it, because she'd felt it before.

And even though that fear was still there - that reluctance to put a name to it, to figure out what it meant then and there, and that inherent reaction to put a stop to it - she stood on shaky legs, smoothing her dress as she held Embry's gaze. As she crammed a million apologies into a single look.

Figuring this moment out first, and knowing what she wanted to come from it.

Embry swallowed, though his eyes never lowered from hers. "You called Seth…"

Taking a deep breath, Leah nodded.

Embry straightened, moving a step away from the wall. "Is that what you were doing yesterday? When you stayed behind at the observatory?"

Holding her breath that time, she nodded again.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Lips parting, Leah reminded herself not to look away, trying to find the right words. "Because I still wasn't sure if it meant anything."

Frowning, Embry moved suddenly, crossing the distance between them in a few long steps. The air stuck in her chest, Leah looked up as his hands reached out, catching her face between them. "Leah...of  _course_ it meant something."

Leah's inhale was shaky, the tremors spreading slowly through the rest of her body. "I know...but I'm still not sure it means what you want it to mean."

Embry's eyes fell and he released her slowly, fingertips tracing the length of her jaw as his gaze followed their path.

"You still coulda told me," he whispered. "This being here for you thing...it's not something I'm gonna turn on and off, Leah. No matter how slow or how small the steps you take are, I'm not going to stop."

"I know," Leah repeated, a part of her remembering something else Jacob said. A reason she didn't have before, but one that suddenly made too much sense held up against her own. "But I didn't want to tell you until I knew if it made a difference, you know? I didn't want to...get your hopes up...and then let you down if it didn't... _work out_  the way you hoped it would."

Releasing a deep sigh, Embry's expression relaxed and he peered back at her through grateful, liquid eyes. "You're not gonna let me down."

"I might," Leah pressed, her arms lifting without waiting for permission, hands inherently finding his waist. "And I know you have hopes...a lot of them. I can see it when you look at me, and that's okay because you want me to be better and you seem to get all of this better than I do, especially since I have no idea what I'm fucking doing half the time." Her fingers curled tighter against his frame. "It's just...I already  _have_ let you down...probably about a hundred times, and I didn't know it before, but I know it now...and I don't want you to think it's your fault if I can't do it."

"If you can't do what?" Embry murmured.

Leah took a deep breath. "If I can't go home. I don't want you to think it's your fault if I can't…"

There was a flicker of understanding in Embry's eyes, one she recognized from a night years earlier when he stood in her kitchen. When she'd asked him to leave. The same one from so many times over the past ten days, when she'd pushed him away.

A resignation, an admittance. A knowledge that while he knew deep down it wasn't his fault, a little part of him still carried more weight than the rest of those she left behind. A part that always  _would_ blame himself for letting her go.

And she fucking hated it. She hated that look, and she wanted it to go away because he hadn't done any of it. None of it was his fault, and even if she'd told him before - in whatever way she had tried - she needed to tell him again.

She needed to make sure he understood.

"What did Jacob say to you?" Embry asked slowly, his voice so quiet Leah caught herself leaning in.

"Nothing," she answered hurriedly, shaking her head. "Nothing that I didn't know anyway...not when I stop to think about it."

Embry raised an eyebrow. "So everything went...?"

"Shh. " Leah couldn't help it as she lifted a finger, stubbornly pressing it to his lips. "Let me get this out, okay?"

She finally dropped her finger when Embry smiled against it.

She took a deep breath, releasing the words building up some place inside her. "Maybe that's why I wanted you to leave so I could talk to Jake, in case I couldn't do  _that_. I don't know, it's just...I  _did_ do it and it was okay. He was... _understanding_  and he said a lot of things that might have helped," she rambled, her gaze flicking down to Embry's chest. "And you're back now and you're staying and I'm  _sorry_."

A moment passed before she felt one deft finger beneath her chin, prompting her to look at him. "What are you sorry for?"

"For everything," Leah admitted, still not sure where all the words were coming from. "For not telling you, for that split second I didn't believe you when you told me you didn't know Jake was coming...for any time I made you feel like any of this was your fault."

"Leah, what are you talking about?"

Holding her breath, she peered up, releasing Embry. Moving swiftly, she roughly took his face between both hands, urging him to see all the sincerity in her eyes. Wanting him to believe - even if she never felt that way and he never made her believe otherwise - there was nothing he could have done to stop her.

"Me...leaving. It's not your fault."

Embry closed his eyes, chest heaving with a deep breath. A moment passed before he reached up, hands spreading over hers as he tried to pull them away. A silent reassurance hers weren't necessary.

He'd always done that - took on more than he should have. Bore a heavier weight than he deserved, and fuck if she didn't want to make it go away. For a second. For the night.

_For good..._

"You kept me there," she insisted, her voice uneven. Tentative, but sure. "Even if it was only for a second, you kept me there. You pulled me back. Then... _now_." He opened his eyes, lips parting as he peered down at her. As his gaze mapped a path over her features, finally landing on the conviction in her eyes.

"You pull me back." She said it again, words still coming faster than she could contain them, but she refused to stop. She refused to close her mouth, letting each one fall from fumbling yet honest lips. "There's my family, but other than them, you are the only one that makes me question what I did. Because of what you did then...what you do  _now_... _you_  are the only  _good_ thing in that life I left behind, and I...I don't want to make you feel that way again...e _ver_."

The look in his eyes was back, only it was more than a glimmer. It was more than a faint glimpse. She could see it all, the intensity of it wrapping around her insides, dissolving what was left of the anxiety within her.

Helping Leah to see that even if her words weren't necessary, what she wanted to do was done. That he understood what she was trying to say, even if it may not have come out the way she hoped.

It didn't matter.

Reaching up, Leah's hands curled around Embry's neck, pulling him to her. Certain lips covering his, pulling him to her this time, letting him know that's where she wanted him.

Right there with her, until he had to go.

They'd worry about labels and what all of it meant later. They'd wait until another day to figure out what that perpetual look in each other's eyes meant, and why desperate hands always seemed to reach for one another all too quickly.

The need he carried, the way his mouth moved against hers, immediately stole the breath from her lungs. Trying to inhale, she pulled his scent into her nostrils, the action doing little to temper the need in her. It made it worse, doing even less to stop her hands from memorizing the contours of Embry's chest as both grazed over his frame, to not feel how his fingers dug into her waist and into her neck, pulling her closer to him.

Her feet moving beneath her, Embry's arms wrapped around her body until it turned. Until suddenly the weight of his was pressed against her, the wall at her back, all of it pushing a sigh from her lips that was swept away by mouth. Leah tipped her head back, squeezing her eyes shut and struggling to find her breath as blazing hands swept the length of her arms and a purposeful mouth left a trail of deep kisses on her neck.

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Leah's hands moved, finding the hem of Embry's t-shirt. Her fingers were on fire as she pushed them beneath the fabric, grazing smooth, copper skin before curling around the button of his jeans. Before pulling him to her again.

He didn't fight her. He didn't pull away, one hand twisting gently through her hair, the other dropping. One heated palm wrapped around her thigh, lifting it to his hip the same time Leah felt her shaking fingers release the button she found herself struggling with.

It was happening again. It was happening and she  _wanted_ it, just as much as the last time, if not more. It wasn't just because she wanted him closer, or how fucking sweet and  _good_ his breath tasted against her lips. How his palms against her flesh continued to fan that consuming fire already inside her.

She wanted to  _show him_ , to prove to Embry just how much she meant the words she spoke. How she felt in that moment...when she saw him after waiting outside his door. The mornings she woke up in his bed, and when she laid across from him the night before last.

Even if she refused to put words to it - even if she  _couldn't_  - she wanted to show him. How he made her feel.

What  _he_ deserved.

And Leah was counting on Embry to see it. To understand how in that moment, words wouldn't matter. That he would remember she had always been a lot like him in at least one way.

Always saying things best without words.

But when she held her breath - determined hands sweeping beneath the waist of his jeans, unfaltering fingers tracing the flesh over the cut of his hips - Embry made a noise in his throat.

He pulled back, lips stilling against hers as his mind caught up to the rest of him.

She opened her eyes, finding black, conflicted ones already staring back at her.

Fighting to catch her breath, she brought her hands up when Embry leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers. As hot breath washed over her lips. As he fought some battle inside him she couldn't see, one that Leah knew had to do with her. His hesitance still abundantly clear. How it somehow tied back to the other night, no matter how perfect and  _needed_ it had been.

"Leah," he whispered, his voice lower than it should have been. Her name heavy as he pushed it out on a ragged breath. "I…"

Leaning forward, she silenced him by pressing the most gentle kiss she could manage against those lips. Giving back to him just a sliver of what he had given her before…

She pulled away, keeping her eyes closed. Not wanting to see the hesitance, but for reasons she wasn't entirely used to. She kissed him again, feeling her lips brush softly against his when she finally parted them to speak.

"Let me show you this time," she whispered. "That it's okay, Embry...that I  _know_."

"Leah…" He murmured her name again, still struggling to catch his breath, an ounce of heaviness gone from his voice. A hint of something else laced through it, almost like he knew what she meant by her words.

But she said them just in case. They were words she  _could_ say, if it meant he'd understand.

"You're  _not them_ …" Her voice barely audible, her fingertips found his face. Feeling the roughness of stubble beneath her hands, outlining a strong jaw. Memorizing every facet of it while she could.

A part of her wildly hoping she wouldn't have to…

"And I don't want you to stop...not this time."

He didn't speak a word. He didn't make a sound, the only noise coming from heavy breaths pushing from two mouths, two bodies at some kind of crossroads.

Silence finally coming when Embry's needful lips once again found hers, as Leah found whatever answer she was looking for in the silence immediately following.

She pushed instead of pulled, once again feeling her legs move as one strong arm wrapped around her. As her fingers still grasped at Embry's face, her body responding to the low, rumbling noise he made in his throat when she pulled his bottom lip between her teeth. As the fire crawled through her veins when she recaptured his mouth, simmering just below her skin when obstinate fingers found the zipper of her dress, lowering it in one swift, undeterred movement.

It wasn't like the last time. Leah knew as much in the way impatient hands moved, how his fingers brushed the straps of her dress from her shoulders. How it fell to the floor the same time she reached back, clasping his t-shirt between shaking fingers, removing it from his body in a single movement. How her hands lowered to another zipper the same time she felt his at her back, removing the last barrier between his skin and hers.

The cool air within the walls of the hotel room was exhilarating against Leah's bare, heated flesh, but it was swept away by Embry's hands when they touched her. As they traveled the length of her back, the curve of her ass before curling around her thighs.

Leah gasped against Embry's mouth when her feet left the ground, as he lowered them both to the bed behind him. Knees pushing into the mattress, Leah opened her eyes, the heat of Embry's body resting between her legs causing a visceral shudder to tear up her spine.

They stayed like that for a moment, Leah's fingernails brushing lightly against his neck as Embry left kisses on her shoulder, on her clavicle, on her neck, making his mark on any part of her he could reach. As he pulled back, those ebony eyes finally finding hers. The way they regarded her made her tremble, insides twisting in a way she wasn't used to but in a way they had before.

Leaning forward, Leah took his face between her hands, kissing Embry slowly. Her lips tasted his, memorizing the way they moved against hers. His gentleness was agonizing and perfect, ensuring she didn't miss a thing. Making sure she felt everything.

Fuck, she didn't want to, but Leah pulled away, placing one hand on Embry's chest. Catching her lip between her teeth to stop the smirk wanting to spread, she pushed gently, coaxing him back against the bed. Taking a deep breath as she watched him watch her.

It was a look that excited her, yet left her nervous in a single moment. Reminding her this was the first time, but unlike so many others before it, this mattered.  _She mattered..._

And so did he.

Leah left one leg on either side of his body, bending down, hearing Embry's breath catch in his chest as her hands pushed against it. As she pressed her mouth to the defined spaces between his ribs, lingering there. Breathing him in. Savoring him, the same way he had done to her less than two days earlier.

She listened, taking it all in, refusing to miss a single thing. How his hands gripped her hips tighter each time she moved. How his breaths became labored, all the noises he made in his throat when she spent an extra moment where she was, her tongue peeking out to taste him. To leave her own mark on a body that had done everything short of possess hers.

All the while he touched her. His hands moved, mapping paths over her thighs, tracing the curve of her spine. Bringing all that fire she felt inside her to the surface, causing her kisses to become deeper. Her own breaths to turn longer, the burn inside her craving some kind of release.

She couldn't wait. Not a second longer.

Slow had come before, and it would come later. In that moment, she could not wait, everything inside her already threatening to fall apart beneath Embry's touch. To crumble beneath the weight of what every movement was doing to her.

_She couldn't wait…_

Leah held her breath, placing one last drawn-out kiss against his neck. She rose up, knees pressing into the mattress, feeling the heat of Embry's body between her thighs. She kept her eyes open. She wanted to see him. For later, for next time...it didn't matter.

She just wanted to remember.

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she smiled as she she watched his eyes travel unabashedly across her body. Eyes moving over the curve of full breasts, lingering for a moment, regarding her with a softness she was used to before looking away. Before finding her eyes once again.

Before she felt strong, warm hands on her hips.

Before she leaned down, letting him lift her at the same time.

As she held those eyes, eliminating any doubt. Soothing any fear he may have still carried inside him that it wasn't the right time. That it wasn't something they should be doing.

Doing what she could to get rid of it all, because there were a lot of wrong things Leah had allowed into her life.

Embry Call wasn't one of them.

Moving again, her eyes closed, every single thought going away - every word lost on her tongue - when she lowered herself the same time Embry pushed. When she finally felt him fill her wholly. Completely.

Leah's mouth fell open, her head fucking swimming at how he felt inside her. As she waited for a single moment, the fire in her veins and the second her body needed to accommodate his rendering her helpless. Forbidding her to move. Allowing her to focus on what it was already doing to her.

She opened her eyes to find Embry still watching her, his forehead creased and lips parted as he waited. As he watched, that infinite patience and endless adoration still completely present in the way he looked at her.

Helping her remember how much she missed it.

Not what they were doing, but how it made her feel.

Desired. Needed.

 _Beautiful_.

Releasing a breath, Leah bent at the waist, feeling Embry wrap his arms around her body the same time she rocked forward. As her mouth found his the moment Embry's hips moved beneath her. As he pulled back. As he filled her again.

He didn't take his time, and Leah couldn't bring herself to mind. She trembled in his arms, fingers grazing the length of his jaw as her mouth traveled to the warm curve of his neck. Every movement, matched by her own, pushed the fire through her veins. The feel of his racing pulse beneath her lips, the heady scent of his need for her winded its way through her senses.

Making it all worse in the best possible way.

Still, beneath the urgency, there was everything she remembered. The way Embry didn't miss a thing. The way one hand drifted tenderly down the curve of her back while the other held her tighter to his body. The way he pressed gentle, open-mouthed kisses to her shoulder. The way he softly breathed her name into her glistening skin, reminding Leah it was  _her_ making him feel this way.

The way he left no part of her body and soul untouched.

Giving her that fire she craved. Making her feel  _everything_. Dragging it out, in a way she wasn't sure it would be possible to end.

Embry shifted beneath her, causing Leah to cry out against his skin. She could feel one strong arm tighten around her frame, the other grasping her. Fingers clutched at Embry's flesh, holding him tight as he suddenly sat up. Leah pulled back to look at him but all of her curiosity was swept away by a blazing mouth that found hers the moment she did.

Everything inside her was boiling, causing her to lose track of it all. Making her miss it as Embry moved again, as she suddenly felt the absence of him inside her. As she felt the cool comforter pressed against her back and the heat of Embry's body above her before she could even open her eyes.

As he took control of it all.

Leah opened her eyes, reaching for Embry in the fading light inside the room. Her fingers tracing patterns down the curve of his chest, heaving with deep, labored breaths. As he watched her with dark, hooded eyes, one hand guiding her thigh to his hip.

Lips parting, Leah struggled to find her own air, the rest of her feeling cold. Fingers curled into his skin, needing him closer.

"Don't stop," she whispered, blinking rapidly. Fighting to find focus beneath the residual effects of the fiery haze wrapping itself around her insides.

Still, it wasn't enough for her to miss the small smile on Embry's lips. For her to see it disappear the same moment he leaned forward, pressing his lips to her stomach. Repeating the action a little higher, inhaling sharply as his mouth traveled through the space between her breasts. As her hands twisted through his hair, pulling, all patience within her lost somewhere in a place she didn't want to find, knowing she didn't want it back.

She opened her eyes the same moment Embry left a tender kiss on her gasping lips. To see him pull back slightly, that smile back on his, eliciting another from hers.

"Never," he whispered.

Her smile was swept away by Embry's mouth when it finally covered hers, the same time she held her legs tightly to his hips. The same time he gave her what she wanted. What she needed, and what he did, too. Reassuring her it was far from over. That, no matter what, he wouldn't pull away.

Proving that he believed what she said to him. That this was what it was supposed to feel like.

Reminding her, over and over, just how different this was - how different  _he_ was - from everything that came before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: YES. You guys have no idea how long I held out on this. Hope it was worth the 15-chapter wait ….. *looks around the room cautiously*. If not, I can assure you now that I've pulled the metaphorical trigger, there will be much more where that came from. Hehehe! :)
> 
> Anyway, can't wait to hear your thoughts!


	16. Overlook

_**Suggested Listening: "Mt. Washington" by Local Natives, "Two Intangibles Can't Be Had" by Sarah Jaffe, "A Little Piece" by The Jezebels, "Before I Ever Met You" by Banks** _

"So...it's officially official. How does it feel?"

With an unnecessary, labored grunt, Embry deposited Jacob's duffel bag into the trunk of the cab. The hot, August sun beat down on the concrete outside the hotel, and Embry could feel it radiating around them. He could feel the beads of sweat collecting on his already too-warm skin the longer they stood there.

Wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, he reached up, closing the trunk. Not sure why Jacob wanted to talk about business when Embry's head was clearly somewhere else…

He couldn't have asked for it. Never in a million years would he have expected it to happen the way it did...

Leaning against the trunk, the car's surface blazing beneath his palms, Embry couldn't help it as he closed his eyes. All of it coming back - nuanced flashes packed into a single, brilliant second, everything he hadn't experienced before. That he'd seen - that he'd  _felt_ \- for the first time.

With Leah...

_Where his hands moved, how she responded. Finding the spot behind her knee that made her smile, or the place on her neck that caused her breath to catch in her chest._

_How she smelled, the same heady mix of jasmine and sandalwood he remembered. How it was intoxicating, mixed with something new. The overwhelming scent of her need for him almost unhinging him completely._

_The way her fingernails dug hard into his skin - the way she breathed his name, barely a whisper falling from her lips - the moment she fell apart completely._

Jesus, it was fucking perfect.

 _She_ was fucking perfect, no matter what she tried to tell him. To him, she was. No matter what she'd done over the years, or the mistakes she'd made along the way, or how far she still had left to go.

If anything, it helped it mean more. To her. To him.

And he wanted more. More of it. More of everything.

More of her...

Because he'd seen her. All the guards and the last huge piece of the wall she had in place fell, and he'd  _seen her_. All of the Leah Clearwater he remembered, not just pieces. The brave, confident woman who could overcome anything. Who would  _do_ anything for anyone, always in her own subtle way. The fire in her eyes, resting just beside a devotion that could easily bring the beast inside him to his knees. The softness in her strong hands.

After everything, she was finally there. In  _his_ arms.

Walking  _toward_ him instead of standing in place. Instead of running away.

Becoming  _his_ in some way he still couldn't define, but in a way he felt like he could suddenly hang onto.

And no matter how hard he tried, Embry couldn't bring himself to worry about what was to come. What it all would mean past the night before. What the fuck they were still going to do.

If there was anything  _to_  do.

Because as much as he didn't want to let it go, he wasn't going there. He wasn't going to ruin it. He wasn't going to see beyond anything that  _wasn't_ him. That wasn't  _her_. He wasn't going to validate anything that  _didn't_ have to do with the two nights they had left.

At least that's what he told himself, even though he knew it was going to be easier said than done...

Blinking, Embry's eyes opened wide as he pushed off the trunk, taking a step back as he remembered where he was. Jacob peered at him skeptically from a couple feet away.

"It feels exactly the same as before," Embry deadpanned, fighting the smirk on his lips. "Except now my paycheck's gonna be a little bigger."

"Ha. You're funny," Jacob muttered, releasing an unimpressed laugh. "Don't forget about all the paperwork that comes with it." He shrugged. "And the longer hours. And the fact you're the one Old Man Littlesea'll sue when he runs over his next deer and claims we fucked with his brakes."

"I already do all your paperwork," Embry chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets and rising up and down on the balls of his feet. "And it's still your name on the sign, dude."

Shaking his head, Jacob grinned, leaning his hip against the taxi.

"You know those meters still run no matter how long you take to get in the car, right?"

Jacob nodded. "Yeah, I know."

Raising one leery eyebrow, Emby cocked his head to one side, still watching his friend. "So my flight leaves Thursday morning, which means I'll probably be home by lunchtime," he continued, ignoring the way Jacob regarded him expectantly. Ignoring how the words were heavy in his mouth, causing a much worse feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Someone'll be at Sea-Tac to pick you up," Jacob responded quickly. "Probably Brady or Collin, since it's hard for me to spare Q or Paul while you're gone, too."

Embry released a deep breath. Despite the immense patience he possessed inside him, it did little to temper the irritation the two youngest pack members brought out in him. They had a lot of growing up to do, and Embry swore the senior pack members spent more time getting them  _out_ of trouble than anything else.

"Great," he muttered, thinking better of it the same moment the word left his mouth. "Sorry about this, man. I know I'm kind of putting you in a rough spot."

Jacob shook his head, lifting one hand in a placating gesture. "Don't worry about it. Like I said, I can spare you for a couple more days."

Embry gave Jacob a tight-lipped smile. "Thanks, Jake. I really do appreciate it."

Nodding, Jacob pushed himself off the car's hood as the driver revved the engine impatiently. Shooting an annoyed scowl in the man's general direction, Jacob glanced back at Embry, a serious and purposeful look replacing the expression that was there a second earlier.

"Em, man, just...be careful."

Gritting his teeth, Embry's gaze lowered as the meaning of Jacob's words wrapped around his insides. He'd suspected Jacob wouldn't leave without saying something, and Embry knew what he was trying to tell him - at least parts of it. Still, there was little he could do to hide his own scowl, to push down the agitated burning inside him, before looking back to his friend.

"I can handle it, Jake."

Jacob nodded again, but held Embry's eyes. "I know you can, just...be  _careful_. That's all I'm saying. You're not Sam...not by a long shot, but you're not that much different than him either."

Embry's lips parted, but nothing came out, the words dying on his tongue. The fire extinguishing slightly, the realization of what Jacob really  _did_ mean by it just a little too clear. Leaving Leah out of it, but urging him to remember something else instead.

Sweeping away a little too easily his silent promise not to let anything else ruin how he felt.

"I'm twenty-three fucking years old, Jake. Pretty sure it would have happened by now."

Embry meant it. With every cell inside him, he meant it. Seeing the aftermath of what an imprint could do - seeing it up close in a way that the others never had - he'd never wanted it for himself.

And he especially didn't want it now.

Embry always believed things happened for a reason, but he believed in choice more. So much so, he always told himself that's how it would be. That he would get to choose the person he belonged to.

That he would get to choose who belonged to him…

"Hey, I get it," Jacob insisted, raising his hands defensively. "I'm pretty sure it would have, too, and I won't pretend like that's not shit Bella and me had to work through either, because it was. You know that, but...Bella's not Leah. And as much as I care about Leah...I have a feeling she doesn't put much stock in words and promises anymore."

"Thanks for the sage advice, man," Embry muttered, a bitterness laced through his words. Each one steeped in the fact he knew Jacob  _still_ had a point. That sometimes their life came with a surrendering of choice, even if the other person had nothing to do with it.

Leah was living proof of that…

Embry stepped back to the curb. "I'll keep that in mind."

Jacob sighed, a flicker of regret on his features, almost like he felt sorry for bringing it up. "You're my best friend, Em. I just don't want you to get hurt. And even though I don't expect you to listen to me...or that I even really want you to, because god knows you shouldn't sit around waiting for something that might never happen...I feel like it's my job to still say it. Leah's been through enough shit, too...and as much as I'd like her to come home, I also want it to be for the right reasons..because she's ready."

A part of him buried not that deep down wanted to call Jacob out on it, feeling like he wasn't giving Leah enough credit. That he was likely coming to his own conclusions about one of the reasons her return home was suddenly a possibility. Embry wanted to argue his case. He wanted to tell Jacob it was more than that - that he'd only been there, that Leah had done a lot of the heavy lifting and healing all on her own - but he didn't, pressing his lips tightly together instead. Knowing it wasn't a conversation he wanted to have that moment.

Knowing there was a small part of him that selfishly hoped he  _would_ be one of the reasons she came home.

"Let's just wait and see what happens," were the only words he could say.

Taking a deep breath, Jacob tapped his fist against the trunk, nodding at the same time. "Alright, well, I gotta go. Don't wanna miss my flight." Offering his friend a small, genuine smile, Jacob turned to get in the cab.

"Have a safe trip, man," Embry said quietly, knowing Jacob would hear him. Returning the smile. "Tell Bella and the others hi for me."

"Always do...see you soon," Jacob replied, offering Embry one last grin before disappearing into the backseat.

Leaving Embry standing on the curb outside the Park Hyatt, the same words sitting on his tongue. Coming out anyway despite the fact he desperately wanted to hold them inside. Despite the fact Embry couldn't help but feel like he wasn't nearly as excited to return home as the others would be to see him.

Knowing he could return with nothing, leaving behind more than he could bear...

"See you soon."

* * *

She had taken this entirely too far.

Hands curling tightly around wood, Leah leaned against her kitchen island, gaping at the contents occupying its surface. Chewing anxiously on one fingernail, she let her eyes sweep across the spread of Thai takeout she planned to transfer to plates - her pitiful attempt at passing the food off as a home-cooked meal.

 _Home-cooked meal_ , she scoffed sarcastically to herself.

_Because Thai food totally qualifies as a home-cooked meal, and of course they eat plenty of that in La Push, Washington…_

Groaning, Leah brought her hands up to her face, rubbing it roughly in a futile attempt to clear her head.

Jesus, she was out of practice at this.

Whatever  _this_ was.

She was trying not to think too hard about it. To not let her mind run away with itself after everything that happened the night before, even though it would have been entirely too easy. Holding herself back the same way she did after she said words to Embry that caused something to shift. After she offered him a piece of her, willingly letting him take it, knowing it would change things in a way that couldn't be reversed.

Knowing she could never reclaim that piece or shove the words back in her mouth, because they'd said too many things and been through too much for it not to matter  _somewhere_. For it to not change  _something_.

And Leah  _still_  wasn't entirely sure she cared...because the largest part of her didn't  _want_ to take it back. It didn't care that it  _had_ changed something.

Fuck, laying there in Embry's arms, her trembling body pulled against his chest, she came so close to saying it. Remembering her words from earlier that day, remembering  _Jacob's_ and how maybe the place she left behind wasn't completely filled with sadness or a hatred toward her. Not like she had let herself believe.

That maybe home was a place she could go back to, if this was what she could have - the arms around her. How they always refused to let go. If going back was only a fraction of this, she wasn't sure she could fathom it, knowing how Embry had pretty much walked through fire to make it to where he was.

To help her get where  _she_ was.

She felt better, stronger, more  _whole_ than she had in years. Like maybe things had changed in a tangible way she could hang onto.

That maybe - finally, after six years - she could admit there were things she shouldn't have left behind.

That she cared about someone in a way she swore she never would again...

Still, heading back to her loft that morning, getting ready for work, and losing herself in a job she loved made her remember other things. It swept away the most dominant parts of the euphoric warmth still lingering in her veins, bringing her back to something that somewhat resembled Earth.

Reminding her no matter how she felt, there was still a strong sense of impossibility in all of it. That regardless of it all, she had to remember that this was real life and real life didn't always give a shit how you felt or what you believed.

And she couldn't forget about something else - something she tried not to think about, even though it was harder than hell  _not_ to when she'd spent the entire day thinking about Embry, home, Jacob, her family, La Push…

The pack.

What she was. What they were.

What  _Embry_ was.

What caring too much could mean...

Releasing a frustrated groan, Leah rubbed her face harder, trying to get rid of that small, nagging voice deep inside her. Banishing it before she could give it the time of day and forgetting how it told her she was fucking stupid for not thinking more about it. For not giving it more leverage in the choices she was making and how she was choosing to spend that night, the next day, and - more than likely - the night after that.

Dropping her hands to her sides, Leah shook her head, silently telling herself it didn't matter.

Thirty-six hours were all they had. Thirty-six hours and he would go back to his life and she would go back to hers because that's how things worked, and she knew this would probably be no different.

Thirty-six more hours to pretend like maybe this was something she could keep.

She knew how flippant it sounded, but it was all she could do. It was all she knew  _how_ to do, even if the reality of it twisted at her insides in a way she fucking hated.

Sighing, Leah tore her gaze from the plates in front of her, allowing one hand to reach out and grab the container of pad Thai she'd picked up. The other one snatching a pair of chopsticks from the place they rested next to the cardboard takeout box. Feet moving, her body reached the counter just behind her as she used her free hand to lift herself off the floor, her body perched on the laminate surface a moment later.

In the same moment, she heard a soft knock from the entryway, followed immediately by the sound of her front door opening.

Heart skipping a beat, she heard a quiet voice from around the corner, calling her name.

"Leah?"

Breath catching, Leah still couldn't help the smile that pulled at her lips, even though she kept her eyes trained on the takeout box. Paying entirely too much attention as she gripped it in one hand, popping the top open with the other.

"In here," she answered, the words barely audible even though she knew he'd hear.

She heard his footsteps on the floor before she could see him, but Leah peered up in time to see Embry walk around the corner, thumbs hitched in the pockets of his jeans. A modest smile rested easily on his lips.

"Hey," she murmured, rolling the chopsticks between her fingers, dipping her head down in some lame attempt to hide her own grin. As she stabbed the utensil into the noodles.

Leah looked up in time to see Embry regarding the spread of food strewn across the island. "I was going to pick something up to eat, but I'm glad I didn't now."

A quiet laugh fell from Leah's throat. "I cooked for you," she said sarcastically, her grin spreading anyway.

The laugh Embry gave her dissolved the lingering tension in her stomach, banishing all the thoughts she didn't want. Bringing back that warmth she  _did_ want, knowing she was well past the point of fighting it.

One eyebrow lifting as she dug beneath the noodles with the chopsticks, Leah finally glanced up, noticing Embry had reached the island. That he was leaning against it, watching her with a softness that made her skin crawl in the best possible way. She'd invited him over but there had been no talk of what they would do that night. There were no plans made.

But he was still there. He'd still come, and in that moment, that's all that mattered.

She swallowed. "I thought about actually cooking for, like...two seconds, but I figured you might want to survive long enough to make it home on Thursday."

Embry pressed his lips together, his smile fading just enough for Leah to swear silently to herself. To realize that if there was some way to jeopardize the peace she wanted so badly, she would fucking find it.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed on anyway.

"So how did everything go at the signing today?"

Embry took a deep breath, the unsettled expression gradually dwindling from his features. "Good," he replied, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "We got everything taken care of that we needed to. Signed about a thousand sheets of paper, but we should be getting a check by the beginning of next week, and then we can get things started."

"That's good," Leah murmured. "I'm glad it all worked out." Looking down, she remembered the forgotten box of Thai food in her hand. With a silent sigh, she lowered her arms, placing it on the counter next to her. She glanced back to Embry. "Did Jacob get home safely?"

Embry nodded, his gaze trained on the floor like he was remembering something. Something she wasn't privy to. Still, it stole the smile from his face and deep down, a part of her wondered if Jacob had said something. If he was the reason behind it. If he had told him something about their conversation the night before.

But more than anything, she hated the way Embry looked in that moment.

Taking a deep breath, Leah watched as Embry pushed himself off the counter, another part of her suddenly registering how far away he was. Another wondering why the hell he was keeping his distance in the first place, and what the point of it was after everything.

Wishing he wouldn't...

Wanting to put the smile back on his face. Wanting him to come closer, even as he did, and even if it wasn't on purpose. His eyes on the food as he made his way around the island, walking between Leah and what he was headed for.

His mouth opened slightly, like he was getting ready to speak.

But Leah stopped him, her leg lifting inherently. The rest of her frozen as the offending limb cut him off, blocking his path. Brushing against his abdomen and keeping him there.

She couldn't stop the new, easy smile on her lips when she saw Embry's return, his gaze dropping. Burning holes through smooth, copper flesh.

Leah didn't move. She didn't breathe and neither did he. Embry didn't look up, but Leah could feel her heart pounding against her ribs when he finally did move, hands lifting from his sides. Powerless against whatever was holding him back, slowly lowering until they connected with her skin. Until she could feel his fingers tracing the faintest of patterns across her flesh.

"You wanna know the best thing about Thai food?" Leah said quietly, soft and subtle words as Embry turned, one hand still trailing along her leg. Journeying past her knee, rubbing gently up the length of her thigh. Leah pulled her bottom lip between her teeth when those ebony eyes caught hers. Hands reaching out, each one curled around his t-shirt even though Embry was almost in front of her.

His own lips parted when his gaze dropped slowly to her mouth, the thick, ardent clouds in his eyes bringing back everything from the night before. Reminding Leah what she wanted to focus on.

The man standing in front of her.

Nothing more, nothing less.

"What's that?" His answer was gruff, eyes lifting. Finding hers when his body leaned forward, all conflict from his face gone. One eyebrow arched as both hands grasped the counter on either side of her, caging her body between strong forearms.

Leah released her grip on his shirt, hands traveling instead. Roaming the curves of his chest, exploring the lines etched into it beneath thin cotton, suddenly wishing wildly that nothing was between them. Her breath leaving her when fingers finally found purchase on the rough, warm skin of his neck.

"I guarantee you it tastes better the next day," she whispered, seeing the spark in Embry's eyes a moment later.

Igniting that intense need she'd seen before.

Finding that fire she craved.

Losing sight of it when she finally pulled him to her, the ease in which he let her stealing what was left of her breath. Taking what she wanted anyway, the urgency of his mouth when it collided with hers ensuring she wasn't getting it back anytime soon.

Clasping his face between her hands, Leah shuddered viscerally, tasting the sweetness of his breath mixing with hers. Her body pliable and willing as Embry leaned against her, hot, demanding hands dug into her waist, pulling her flush to the edge of the counter. Leah's legs found purchase against his hips while Embry's hands held her in place, still moving, pushing beneath her tank top. Seeking solace against flushed skin.

She rocked back for a split second, heavy, needful eyes finding Embry's as she lifted her arms. As he pulled her shirt over her head, hands back on her skin a moment later. Marking her as fingernails dug into flesh. Lips recapturing hers the moment after that, swallowing the sigh torturously crawling its way from Leah's mouth.

Fuck, it all felt so good.  _Better_ than she remembered as she parted her lips, deepening the kiss, yet somehow doing exactly the same thing it did the night before. Feeding the need inside her as she pushed impatient hands through Embry's hair. Moving, dragging her nails down his back, the deep growl in Embry's throat already threatened to pull her apart completely.

Making her wonder how he'd fought this for so long.

Why  _she'd_ fought it.

_Why in the hell she would ever want to..._

"Jesus, Leah…" he breathed against her lips, the warmth of his breath spilling over her own. "I want you so fucking much right now."

Shivering beneath the conviction of the words, Leah pulled him closer, turning her head as he laced his own fingers through her hair. Squeezing her eyes closed and inhaling sharply against his skin, she placed a burning, open-mouthed kiss to his jaw, dragging her teeth across the rough flesh covering it. Wanting him to  _take_ what he wanted.

_Wanting him to take what was his…_

"It's yours..."

Another shudder ripped through Leah, the heat coursing through her veins unable to mask the brief flash of cold brought on by words that, a moment earlier, had been inside her head. Words she'd suddenly said out loud, whispering them into his skin, lost beneath a throbbing heart and a blazing touch and not really thinking about the implications or what it would mean if she did.

Each one coming from a place she didn't recognize and hadn't been able to stop.

Tightening her hold on Embry, a part of her wished wildly that maybe he hadn't heard them.

But when his lips stilled on her neck, she closed her eyes, knowing there was no way she could ever be that lucky.

_If there's a way to fuck things up..._

He loosened his hold on her slightly before pulling back. Hands still clinging to his shoulders, Leah let her head slump against the cupboard behind her. Forcing her eyes open to see a hesitance in his, not quite masking that flicker of fucking hope she always saw.

She let out a despondent breath, preparing for Embry to make a big deal out of it. Absentmindedly lifting one hand, she watched her fingers brush through the strands of hair just above his ear. Preparing for the questions and the words he'd probably waited all day to say. Wishing like hell she'd just kept her mouth shut.

But the words never came.

In fact, it was the opposite.

Instead, she saw the hesitance give way to something else, replaced by an intense yearning - a fiery need - she wasn't expecting, but one she'd seen before. Confirming that maybe he wasn't going to ruin it. That maybe he  _didn't_ want to talk about it.

That maybe he simply wanted to make the most out of the time they had left, too, and overlook everything else.

That maybe what she said spoke for itself.

That maybe those words were all he needed, in more ways than she could understand.

And Leah couldn't explain why suddenly all she wanted was for him to speak. For him to ask questions, for him to give her the chance to talk her way out of words that she should have kept inside...

But she couldn't speak either, and she didn't get the chance because Embry moved again. His mouth found hers with a roughness and a fervor that rivaled moments earlier, sweeping away everything in her head. Getting rid of the words on her tongue and making her forget what the hell she'd been thinking or what she was so worried out about in the first place.

Still, she searched, reeling when she felt her body leave the counter. When she felt her legs instinctively wrap around Embry's waist and his hands grip her ass, her head fucking swimming. The way he kissed her making a mess of everything else inside her.

Leah barely registered it when she felt one blazing hand on her leg, pushing, urging it down to the floor. She complied, the other leg following a moment later, both feet flat on hardwood when she suddenly felt those hands at her waist. When they tugged at the button of her shorts as her own hands dug into Embry's neck, hungrily pulling his bottom lip between her teeth the moment he slid the shorts from her hips.

She could feel the blood inside her boil, the animal buried deep inside her scratching. Responding to the heat. Coming out of hiding. Wanting to take over.

But another part of her was still lucid enough to hear the growl deep in Embry's chest. Even as her mouth swept it away, knowing there was a similar part of  _him_ that was just as close. One that likely held a similar desire.

One that still clung to her words. Wanting them...quite possibly more than she'd realized.

For a split second, she tried to remember why this wasn't something  _she_ was supposed to want. Even as words like control and distance and better judgment warred for space in her whirlwind thoughts, it didn't matter. And she couldn't remember why it was  _supposed_ to when Embry was there. Standing in front of her.

When every fucking thing she could feel was so intense, so real. So  _good_.

When every part of her felt like this was how it was supposed to be...

And she couldn't help it. She couldn't fucking help it as she pulled away, her chest heaving with labored breaths as she caught his eyes. As she saw how both need and lust had darkened them to an unnatural, feral black.

As she held his gaze, turning her body slightly. Her lips pulling into the smallest of smiles.

Pushing down the instinct inside of her. Giving him permission.

Submitting to everything - previous mantras. Unspoken words. Unanswered questions.

Submitting to  _him_.

"Take it…"

The voice wasn't hers, but Leah knew the words had fallen from her lips. Offering him the last permission he needed. Validating his insistence. Validating  _hers_. Craving it - craving  _him_ \- just as much as he did her. In whatever way he wanted to have her...

Leah felt her feet move, the heat from Embry's presence never leaving her back, even as her body collided with the counter. As her mouth fell open the same time his frame pushed against her. Leah was prone beneath him, bending slightly at the waist. Hands spread wide across the laminate surface, her back arching toward it, away from Embry.

Heart pounding in her ears, the suppressed heat already incinerated her veins. In the middle of it all, she barely heard the sound of Embry's movements - of a zipper being lowered. Everything else masking it - the way his breath washed across the back of her neck, the way one hand still dug into her hip. Pulling her toward him.

Closing her eyes, all Leah could see was red, brought on by the heat inside her.

Fuck, she was lost. Drowning, in a way she wasn't sure she wanted to be saved.

In a way she  _couldn't_ be saved, at least not in that moment - held captive by a pair of large, strong hands around her waist. Unable to move, unwilling to  _think_ about it the moment those hands dug into her flesh. The moment they pulled her hips back. When a sensuous cry erupted between parted lips, following the moment Embry pushed himself into her completely.

Refusing to give  _her_ a moment, even though she desperately didn't want one.

Still, giving her body a delirious respite as the heat finally released itself in a flurry of white-hot stars behind her eyelids.

Before she could catch her breath - before she could come down from the initial euphoria of it all - Leah's hands pressed against the kitchen counter. Pushing herself up, she felt every fucking inch of him inside her. Everything inside her threatening to unravel as the threads of heat moved, winding torturously through her veins.

How when she reached behind her, fingers grazing Embry's neck, she felt him press his lips softly to her pulse.

A tender gesture in the midst of everything else.

Just before he whispered a single word into her skin, his voice barely audible. A low hum against her flesh, stealing every wisp of breath she held in her lungs.

" _Mine…"_

How in that moment she couldn't question what he said. She couldn't form the words needed to argue, unable to focus on anything but the feel of him inside her body. Knowing no matter what, in that moment, there was some kind of truth in it.

Acknowledging - for a single, fleeting, beautifully flawed second - there was no other way she wanted it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo...kind of a short update. This and the next two probably will be like that - basically, I have way too much content for two chapters, which would normally not be a huge deal but the shifts between scenes would, in my opinion, be too awkward if I left them together, so I decided to break them up into three shorter chapters. I'm nicknaming them "The Love Bubble", haha. No mega-angst allowed, maybe just a DMC (deep meaningful conversation) or two. I've got plenty of angst down the road and figured these two just needed a fucking break and some more bonding time before things get heavy again…. ;)
> 
> Anyway, hopefully these chapters will move along quickly and transition this story to the next phase, which I'm bouncing to get to. Hope you all enjoyed! :)
> 
> Finally, big thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter. I'll hit you all up very soon for a second personal thanks. 333
> 
> Can't wait to hear your thoughts!


	17. Tomorrow

_**Suggested Listening: "Gone Too Soon" by Sarah Jarosz, "When I Dream" by Ra Ra Riot, "Addict" by , "Give Me Tonight" by Art of Fighting, "Don't Say A Word" by Ellie Goulding** _

Leah's entire loft was silent as she walked quietly across her living room, approaching the bedroom door. Clutching a mug of coffee tightly in one hand, her cell phone rested between the fingers of the other.

Reaching the doorway, Leah's feet stopped, her body leaning lazily against the frame. For now, there was nothing on her mind, and regardless of how many things she knew would demand her attention - either in a minute, an hour, or the next day - she didn't question it.

She didn't want to ruin it, because one look between the gauzy curtains hanging from her bedroom windows reminded her of where her head  _could_ be and what awaited her when morning left and the day was forced to begin.

The sunlight confirming what day it  _was_.

When her eyes opened that morning, it didn't take long to feel the heat embracing her. To see a long, copper arm stretched across her body, Embry's hand resting over hers. For a moment, her eyes lingered, seeing how their skin matched. How seamlessly the color of their hands fit together and how, in six years, she couldn't remember a time that happened.

So she remembered all the things she wanted to - how the night before, sleep had been the last thing on their minds. How satiated every part of her body was. The urgency of every movement - the desperation and passion behind every single kiss - both of them trying to make the most of the darkness before sleep came. Before they'd open their eyes on a new day.

On  _that_ day.

On  _Wednesday_ , and what was coming on Thursday.

And no matter how hard she tried not to, she thought about other things - the things she said. The things Embry said.

A single word...

They still hadn't talked about it and fuck if it didn't do something to her, twisting her insides in knots - good or bad, she wasn't sure. Still, she swallowed it back, a part of her just wanting to fucking hide from the reality of it all.

When the bleary haze finally cleared from her eyes, she curled farther into Embry's sleeping frame. Forcing her eyes closed, Leah silently brought everything else back. Running the memories on repeat, she was still grateful for it all, and she caught herself wishing like hell she could figure out a way to get the time back she wasted.

That she could salvage those days she spent running and pushing Embry away, not realizing what he would do for her.

_How all of it would make her feel…_

For a moment, Leah was overcome with a feeling she didn't recognize. One she hadn't felt in a long time, breathless as she kept her eyes shut, pressing her cheek into the pillow. Arm sliding over Embry's, she pulled it tighter around her body, thankful when he didn't stir.

She stayed like that - frozen, feeling Embry's soft, even breaths on the back of her neck. Eventually pulling in a breath of her own through her nostrils, ignoring the burning knot in her throat the moment his scent slowly filtered through her insides.

_Knowing it wouldn't be there tomorrow..._

Still, Leah knew this wasn't something she could change, so she had to do what she could - she had to make the day count. She had to hang onto it for as long as she could, knowing it was probably the last one they'd have.

She didn't want to think about words.

With a small smile, Leah glanced down, pushing herself off the wall before bare feet padded across the thinly-carpeted floor. Doing her best to focus on the  _good_ feelings inside her, she ignored the phone in her hand and what she was sure waited on her voicemail.

She'd heard its shrill ring from the kitchen only a half hour earlier. When she finally bothered to venture to the kitchen, she tentatively picked it up off the island in between tasks and preparing a pot of coffee.

The name on the missed call made her freeze. The lit-up voicemail icon made her stomach tie in knots.

Putting the phone down without another glance, she told herself she'd deal with it later.

Crossing the distance between her and the bed, Leah silently placed the ceramic mug and her phone on the nightstand before leaning over. Before her hands and knees disappeared into her down comforter, closing another space she found herself not wanting.

The small sounds the bed made beneath her movement were enough for Embry's sleeping form to move - for him to inhale sharply as he woke up and Leah to stop where she was. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth to contain her smile, she watched as Embry turned, eyes still filled with sleep when his bleary gaze found hers.

"Hey," he mumbled, rolling lazily onto his back. With a sigh, he lifted his hands, roughly rubbing his face.

Legs tucked beneath her, Leah leaned back the same moment Embry dropped his arms to the mattress, the haze gone from his eyes after a few rapid blinks.

"Morning," she whispered.

Embry took a few moments to get his bearings but eventually returned her smile, reaching up and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "What time is it?" he asked.

Releasing a breath, Leah glanced at the alarm clock on his side of the bed. "A little past ten."

Pushing himself up on his elbows, Embry frowned, glancing at Leah in confusion. "Shit, really? Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

Leah offered him a knowing shrug. "Yeah...but I took a couple personal days."

By the time she looked away, Embry was trying to look disappointed. Regardless, she could see the glimmer in his eyes, a look that mirrored her own earlier motivation when she'd snuck quietly out of bed, finding her laptop on the dining room table. When she'd emailed her supervisor and Autumn to let them both know she wouldn't be back in until Friday.

Still, he wasn't entirely convinced. "They're not gonna...hold that against you, are they? I mean, with your promotion and all…"

Taking a deep, anxious breath, Leah tried to ignore what he said, picking at a loose thread on the comforter. "You worry too much," she assured. "Plus, I never take a day off...so that means I have about a month's worth of PTO built up. If anything, it'll probably just make them happy I took a break."

Watching her for a moment, Embry finally smiled. When he leaned back against the pillows, Leah's eyes lowered, watching his finger trace the length of her thigh. Following it as it drew patterns on her bare flesh. Relishing how it gave birth to a shiver, crawling slowly down the length of her arms.

"So what are you gonna do with all that free time?"

Smiling, Leah lifted her hand from the mattress, covering his -squeezing, just before she leaned forward. Before she crawled across the small space separating them, feeling Embry's hands grasp her hips. Before she moved over him, knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his body. Peering down at Embry, his fingernails still trailed lightly across her skin, causing chill bumps to erupt beneath them.

Rocking back, Leah let her own hands drift lazily across his chest, traveling over the smooth plane of his stomach.

"Well, I really need to balance my checkbook," she murmured, fighting another smile.

Embry lifted an amused eyebrow. "Yeah?"

Nodding, Leah watched her index finger draw a circle around his belly button, eventually moving to the prominent line defining the cut of his hip. "Yeah...and I'm pretty sure it's been months since I went to the grocery store."

"Sounds like a great time…"

Leah tried to ignore how Embry's hands tightened around her thighs. "Oh, it will be. And after that, I have about three huge baskets of laundry to do and probably about a dozen dresses to take the dry cleaners…"

Embry groaned, and Leah let out a surprised cry when she felt herself being pulled - when Embry's torso suddenly was beneath her and his hands were splayed tightly against her back. Urging her body down until it was flush with his, the tips of her hair grazing his skin.

She was smiling again when he reached up, taking another moment to let his fingers ghost down the length of her jaw. His eyes watching her, studying every part of her face except for the part watching him.

Releasing her breath, Leah pulled back a little, fighting the inherent desire inside her - the one to simply lean down and kiss him. Like a habit...

Instead, she noticed how Embry regarded her, a thousand new things suddenly passing through those eyes. All joking and humor pushed aside as lips parted, his silence lingering for a moment. Leah's stomach twisted into a nervous knot, realizing what was about to happen.

"Leah, about last night…" His eyes searched her face, looking anywhere but hers. "What I said…"

Closing her eyes for a split second, Leah could hear the word in her head. Resurfacing despite her efforts to keep it from her mind.

_Mine..._

Fuck, the way he said it - what it did to her when he did, the memory of it causing a visceral, invisible shudder to tear up her spine. What he  _meant_ by it perfectly and deliriously clear. How he reinforced it with every unforgiving movement that followed, every brush of strong hands, every press of needful, unyielding lips to her skin...

How she'd fallen apart harder than she ever had before.

Blinking wildly, Leah pushed herself up with one arm, still noticing the insistent darkness in Embry's eyes. "Don't worry about it," she murmured.

"I know, it's just..." Embry sat up that time, despite Leah still straddling his body. Causing her breath to catch in her throat when he was suddenly right in front of her, the heat from his frame pressing firmly against her chest. So close she was positive he could feel her heart pounding through the threadbare material of her t-shirt.

"It's  _fine_ ," she interrupted purposefully, lifting her hand and pressing it against his lips. A mindless effort to keep the words inside his mouth, and to keep him from pulling her petulant fingers from her ears and forcing her to listen to what she was sure he wanted to say. The words, the conversations - ones that had no definition yet but ones Leah still felt like she'd have to make at some point in the next twenty-four hours.

Because she'd thought about it all...more than she wanted to admit. Enough to scare the shit out of her.

Which is why she wanted to wait. Why she wanted to put it off.

"Just forget about it, okay?" she pressed on quietly, two fingertips absentmindedly grazing the length of his jaw. "I already have…"

Even though she felt gentle hands graze her waist, the expression in those eyes told an entirely different story, one that tugged at something inside of her. Making it entirely too clear that  _wasn't_ what Embry wanted to hear. That he'd thought about it and chosen that moment to bring it up, and a part of him hoped she wouldn't ignore it. That there were still words he wanted to say.

Lacing her fingers through his hair, Leah let out a rough breath, leaning forward and determinedly pressing her lips to his. Finally able to breathe when he relaxed beneath her hands, when his tightened across her back. She dragged out the kiss, waiting until she could feel the fire she was hoping for in the way his mouth moved against hers. Waiting until she knew for sure the thought was gone from his head and  _this moment_  was what he allowed to replace it.

Doing what she could to show him that no matter what she said, she hadn't forgotten about  _this_.

"So," she whispered against his lips, hoping like hell he'd feel her smile. "I figured all that other stuff I have to do could wait a couple days. I actually have something better in mind for today."

Leah felt a lead weight lift off her insides when Embry leaned forward, kissing her again, silencing her for a single moment. Reassuring her he'd dropped all the talk about the night before.

At least for a little while...

"Like what?"

"You'll see," she insisted, brushing her fingers against his lips, her insides warming when it did little to wipe the grin from them. "But first I need to shower."

"Fine," Embry muttered with mock indignation, hands curling tighter around her thighs. Lifting Leah off him, he ignored the noise of protest she made, and she didn't miss his chuckle when he deposited her in an unceremonious heap on the bed beside him.

Sitting up on her hands, Leah reached out, giving him a playful shove. Shaking her head at the smirk he gave her, how he lifted one challenging eyebrow in her direction and she tried like hell to ignore what  _that_ did to her insides.

"You're lucky I like you, Call, or your ass would be on the floor."

When his other eyebrow raised in surprise, Leah couldn't help but laugh. Pulling herself to the edge of the bed, she inadvertently turned her back on Embry, one hand reaching out and picking up her cell phone from its resting place.

"You want some company?"

Even as she stared at the phone's blank screen, Leah paused, knowing what he meant by the question. She could hear it in his voice, buried not so deep beneath the suggestive way he asked.

Releasing a smile he couldn't see, Leah shook her head. "No, that's okay," she murmured, taking another breath before peering over her shoulder to see Embry watching her expectantly.

She looked too long, a part of her sort of wanting to take it back…

But it only took another moment to remember the phone in her hand, feeling the cool aluminum resting more like a lead weight between her fingers.

"You could go get some breakfast though," she suggested, eyes widening in sincerity. "There's a little Italian bakery a few blocks south of here. Their cannoli is the stuff people kill over...no lie."

Taking a deep breath, Embry's gaze lingered before he finally threw back the comforter, offering her a warm smile.

"I can handle that."

Five minutes later, Leah shut herself in the bathroom. She leaned against the sink, staring at nothing in particular until she was certain she heard the front door close behind Embry. Taking a deep breath, she finally allowed herself to move. Crossing the short distance to the shower, she reached in, turning the hot water knob as far as it would go. Turning the cold a little less before pulling her arm back and closing the curtain.

Glancing back at the sink as steam filled the small room, her eyes landed on her phone.

Moving swiftly, Leah swiped it from the vanity, lifting it in front of her. Shifting robotically until she sank onto the toilet's closed lid. Elbows digging into her thighs, Leah swept her finger over the screen, watching it light up. Her eyes stared blankly at a single word just under the ones announcing she missed a call.

One of the reasons she wanted to avoid talking about anything she didn't have to, knowing this would likely be enough for one day...

_Mom._

Leah attempted to count back the weeks, trying to recall exactly how long it had been since she spoke to her mother. She couldn't remember, but she did know it was some time before the Fourth of July. Her mother tried telling her about the reservation's annual festival she was helping to plan, and Leah had spent the entire time answering emails and interjecting when absolutely necessary…

Trying her hardest not to listen to a word her mother said.

The truth to it causing the knot in Leah's stomach to cinch even tighter.

Still, it didn't matter, because Leah had an idea of what her mother wanted this time - what she likely wanted to talk to Leah about. She didn't have to think too hard, remembering a conversation she had over the phone only a few nights earlier.

The one she had with her brother. What he'd told her. What he'd  _asked_ her.

Knowing this was likely a call from her mother she couldn't ignore.

Holding the air in her chest, Leah's thumb moved, pressing down on the voicemail key. Holding it until the phone dialed her mailbox. Finally releasing her breath and placing the call on speaker, she kept the phone at an irrationally safe distance - bracing for what her mother would have to say.

Silently promising herself that no matter what it was, Leah wouldn't let it ruin this day.

But even Leah knew she was grasping at straws the moment she heard Sue Clearwater's voice fill the room in which she sat.

" _Hi, Leah. It's your mother. I'm sorry to bother you but I just wanted to check in…"_

There was a long pause, like her mother was searching for what to say next. Carefully calculating her words, making sure she chose them correctly. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Leah chewed on it anxiously. Trying to distract from the way her stomach rolled beneath the simple observation.

" _I understand you spoke to your brother this weekend. That's good...I'm glad the two of you finally talked. Anyway...I don't know if he told you, but Grace really wants you to be in the wedding. It would mean an awful lot to her if you considered it, and...it would mean a lot to your brother. I just...I think this is something you should consider, Leah. This isn't something that happens everyday, and this is something that has nothing to do with anything else, so...I think you should give it some serious thought. You know what this would mean to him, and I just...I think you should think about it. I think you should be here, so...please let me know you got this message. Please call me. I'll talk to you soon, Leah...bye."_

Leah wasn't breathing by the time the automated voice replaced her mother's, prompting her to do something with the message that somehow managed to dredge up a crippling emptiness inside her.

As she mentally added her mother to the list of people waiting for her to speak. Waiting for her to acknowledge she'd made it to a certain place on the messed up road to fixing her life. To admit it wasn't one where she could stay forever - hiding, hanging onto the peace she'd somehow managed to find once she reached it.

Reminding her there was still another step to take, perhaps the biggest one of them all.

One that had nothing to do with the person she woke up next to that morning...

Still, she'd heard the implication in her mother's voice. Maybe she'd imagined it, but she swore she fucking heard it, buried beneath the lack of affection and the missing 'I love yous' - missing because her mother stopped saying it once Leah stopped saying it back, not wanting to give her mother a reason to hang on to the idea of the daughter she lost.

_You know what this would mean to him._

_I think you should be here..._

And Leah could fucking hear it. She knew.

If she didn't go, that would be it. This time was different.

Her mother knew it, and so did Leah.

Still, Leah could tell by the tone of the other woman's voice - the way she spoke the words, thick with a heavy resignation - that deep down, her mother's expectations hadn't changed much either.

And Leah couldn't really blame her because she still wasn't sure she  _could_ do it - because even though she'd faced many of the demons that plagued her present, there were still so many she left behind. The ones that were buried. Out of sight.

The ones that no matter what she told herself were still tightly woven into a place two thousand miles away.

The ones that drove her to where she was in the first place...

Shaking her head, Leah reached out, depositing the phone back on the vanity. Pulling in deep breath after deep breath. Wiping the sweat from her brow, caused by the heavy, moist air lingering thick in the small bathroom, and trying like hell to temper the churning inside her - the mild burn she could feel on the very edges of her veins, one she hadn't felt much of lately but still knew entirely too well.

There were two choices, and it was entirely too  _clear_.

It was either figure out a way to fix those last broken pieces, or let it go completely. She could go for broke. She could either trust what Jacob told her - what Embry told her - and rip off the biggest bandage of them all.

Or she could count the victories she'd had so far. She could tell herself this was as good as it would get, stop where she was, bury the past for good, and simply give up everyone who was tied to it.

_Everyone..._

After all, it had always been her goal. To find a better life and leave the past behind.

And Leah couldn't explain it, but in that moment, the thought of  _finally_ letting go of the very thing she'd spent six years running from - and losing all the people tied to it - scared her more than she could grasp.

* * *

"So...fireworks in August, huh?"

Grinning, Leah lifted one hand from the sandy concrete she was sitting on, reaching up and brushing her hair from her face as the wind off Lake Michigan swept it back. She nodded as Embry's shoulder brushed against hers, her body inherently leaning in.

Soaking up that warmth while she still could...

Turning her head slightly, Leah surveyed several groups of people already lining the Chicago sea wall, lost in their own conversations while awaiting Wednesday-night fireworks over Navy Pier. Even though it was a regular summer event, it had been a long time since Leah made the trip to see the fireworks, an event that primarily attracted tourists and teenagers.

This time, though, she figured she could make an exception.

Embry had returned that morning with an entire box of cannoli and a few extra apple tarts for good measure, sweeping away any leftover anxiety Leah held within her after listening to her mother's voicemail. The shower she took hadn't been enough on its own, the hot water doing little to soothe the wound-up feeling tying her nerves in knots.

How much better she felt suddenly reinforcing her decision - that no matter how much attention it warranted, her mother could wait until tomorrow. Return phone calls, decisions,  _words_...all of it could wait until tomorrow.

Since Leah wasn't in a huge hurry to move the day forward, they'd taken awhile to leave her loft. When they finally did, a majority of the cannolis were left uneaten, so Leah took Embry to one of her favorite hole-in-the-wall diners near the Northwestern campus. After eating an obscene amount of pancakes and eggs benedict, Leah suggested they walk to Navy Pier. Embry agreed, and if Leah wasn't sure before, she could tell when Embry eventually reached out and took her hand. When his pace slowed, only smiling at her when she glanced back to see why.

He was in no hurry to rush the day either.

Like clockwork, though, the sun started to lower in the western sky, threatening to disappear behind the tallest points of the Chicago skyline. Eventually, Leah realized the day was coming to a close. She did her best to ignore the dreadful feeling in her gut, even as they walked the Lakefront Trail to the sea wall, still taking their time. She tried to ignore how it grew deeper, sinking alongside the setting sun.

And still, she tried, even as she sat next to Embry, watching the glistening waters of Lake Michigan lap at the shore several feet below them.

"That's one thing I wish La Push had more of," Embry ventured quietly, his voice pulling Leah from her own thoughts. "Fireworks…"

Leah smiled again but she didn't look at Embry, instead watching the many boats populating the harbor. "Maybe you should petition the council for them," she deadpanned. "If you could convince Jake to kick in a few dollars in the shop's name, you might actually make it happen."

Embry chuckled lightly. "I think that's something where your master skills in persuasion would come in handy."

Leah scoffed quietly, her gaze lowering, the smile falling slightly from her lips. Not missing the underlying meaning behind Embry's words.

A few moments of silence passed before Embry made a noise in his throat, his frame shifting beside her.

"I had a really good time today…"

Pulling in a deep breath, Leah reached up and brushed another strand of hair from her face. Finally, she glanced at Embry, finding those eyes watching her intently, all those words she saw earlier still resting there.

Releasing the air in her lungs, Leah tried to expel the anxiety inside her right along with it. Leaning forward, she pressed motionless lips to Embry's shoulder, feeling the heat beneath them. Needing to touch him, somehow, in that moment.

"Me, too," she whispered against the thin cotton.

She lingered there, long enough to feel Embry's hands move. To feel one close over hers, resting on her thigh. To feel the other hand reach up, gently cupping her cheek as he turned his head, pressing his lips to her forehead when she closed her eyes. Doing what he could to soothe her invisible anxiety. Speaking a hundred silent words with a single movement.

When he eventually pulled away, Leah took a deep breath and stayed where she was, turning away and leaning her cheek against his shoulder instead. She could feel it - a heaviness sitting smack in the middle of her chest, crawling up her throat. Threatening to come out with her own words, no matter how much she fought them.

She suddenly felt a consuming need to speak, despite repeated promises to keep silent.

Still, only two words escaped her parted lips.

"Thank you…"

Embry's hand tightened around hers. "For what?"

Leah shrugged, refusing to move. Her other hand shifting to rest on top of Embry's, keeping it there. "For everything...for today, for the last two weeks. For staying, and just...being here."

She could feel Embry's muscles tense slightly, his hand still clinging to hers. A part of him, somewhere, recognizing what she was doing.

That even though they still had a handful of hours left, she was saying her goodbyes now...while she could. While she had the strength, the ability, and the clear head to do it.

Still, he didn't reply, and Leah felt the need to fill the silence. To say more, just so he knew.

_Just in case this was it..._

"I'm sorry I fought you for so long, and I'm sorry I wasted so much time," she murmured, her voice cracking inexplicably beneath the weight of it. Finally lifting her head, Leah still couldn't look at him, focusing instead on where their hands intertwined.

"Leah," Embry whispered insistently, finally finding his own voice, "stop apologizing. I didn't do anything I didn't want to do, and I didn't go through anything I didn't want to."

"I know," she replied softly, a hint of hesitance still laced through her tone. "It's just...if there was one thing I could have done differently, I would have let you be there sooner. I would have remembered how you did it for me all those times before and I would have realized this was no different...that deep down, you're really no different than that boy who found me the first time I phased and I was scared out of my fucking mind."

For whatever reason, Embry chuckled next to her. "I suppose I should take that as a compliment…"

"You absolutely should," Leah interjected quickly, finally throwing a fervored glance at him. Not entirely sure what she was saying and even less certain she was getting her point across clearly. Before she looked away again. "You're still him, only...better. Stronger. And this time was different...and it was better, too."

The words spilled out - a mess of an explanation - even though deep down she knew exactly what she  _wanted_ to say.

_She didn't want him to go…_

But those words were stuck in her throat, wrapped in a vulnerability - one she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to reveal.

"I wouldn't have wasted so much time," she rambled. "I mean, if someone would have told me all those years ago..." Leah shook her head roughly. "You've always been so good, Embry.  _Too_ good...to everyone. To  _me_."

She stopped talking, still not sure if what she said made any sense. Looking up, Leah's troubled eyes found his, seeing a rapt yet conflicted darkness in his gaze.

Eyes that understood what she was trying to say, even if she didn't.

Eyes that held their own struggle - that held the desire to say what  _he_  wanted to say, mixed dangerously with the same unwillingness.  _Another_ desire to keep his words inside, take hers at face value, and leave the rest of it alone. To simply kiss her and hold her and go home the next day. To let their lives go the directions they were supposed to.

But it wasn't working - Leah could see it as he glanced down, the conflict inside him taking precedence over the urge to do nothing. To not jeopardize the time they had left, wanting something else.

To push her farther than she was ready to be pushed.

Leah's stomach was leaden, overshadowed by the way an exhilarated heart pounded against her ribs. Two parts of her reacting differently, wanting two completely different things.

Still, Embry took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders and letting the dissension disappear from his face. His mouth opened like he was going to say more, eyes sweeping across the water before he looked back, a flicker of sincerity in them holding Leah in place.

"Make it up to me then."

Eyes widening, Leah blinked in surprise. "What?"

Embry swallowed thickly, but his gaze never faltered.

"Make it up to me," he repeated, the way he looked at her stealing the air from Leah's lungs. Forcing her blood to run cold as she waited for him to speak. To finish what he was saying. To tell her what he meant.

Knowing she wouldn't have to wait long.

"Come home...for Seth's wedding."

The request stole what little breath Leah held inside her. Still, a part of her was still lucid enough to recognize the question had little to do with Embry's concern over her brother's wedding. That it had more to do with what she said and what he wanted to say, and all the other words that had passed between them.

Regardless, Leah had no idea what to say in that moment, knowing his request was much bigger than that. Knowing it wasn't that simple.

"That's not fair," she finally croaked, forcing a smile. Trying to lighten the situation - to downplay the importance of it.

"Neither is expecting me to go home and pretend like none of this happened…"

Leah closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly, knowing she should have expected those words from him. Knowing he was justified in saying them.

Finally forcing her eyes open, Leah couldn't help it as she glanced at Embry, his features hardening for a split second before they relaxed. Before the softness returned to his eyes.

He swallowed, buying himself a second, gathering what courage he needed somewhere inside him. Refusing to look away, he watched Leah with a sincerity and plea that tugged at something inside her.

"I don't want this to be it, Leah. I don't want tonight...and everything that happened before to be it."

Leah's stomach wrenched viciously, and she had to look away. She couldn't watch those eyes any longer, knowing perfectly well what they wanted. What he meant - what he wanted her to say. He wanted more words, he wanted promises. He wanted her to soothe his own fear.

He wanted her to reassure him he wouldn't leave and be forced to tuck the last two weeks away as nothing more than a memory.

And Leah knew there was no way she could sort through the jumble of nerves and conflicting feelings inside her in order to give him that - in order to give him a clear, confident answer.

Embry  _had_ to know that, too. Still, he was going out on that limb. He was asking anyway.

"So..." he said softly, managing to pull her from her thoughts. Everything in his voice reaching out, wrapping around her, still trying to ease  _her_ fear the best way he knew how. Replacing it with that deep down feeling he'd always given her...

The one that made her believe just about anything was possible so long as he thought it was, too.

That if he thought she could do it, there was a good chance she probably could.

"Give me something to take with me. Tell me you'll come home for the wedding."

Leah closed her eyes, firmly pressing her lips together. Feeling what the first set of words did to her, unable to argue with how they appealed to another part of her. The part that didn't want it to seem so impossible. That saw it as a solution to something else - a balm to soothe a part of her that ached for more peace, more time.

And it was too perfect - how his request intertwined perfectly with the phone call from her mother. With her conversation with Seth.

Reminding her all over again that Embry wasn't the only person that could be waiting for her in La Push if she chose to go. That there were other reasons to give him the answer he wanted.

Fuck, she wanted to tell him she'd try. She wanted to make him  _happy_ , in a way that made absolutely no sense. She wanted to deserve the prideful way he always looked at her.

She wanted to tell him...how desperately she wanted to do what he asked.

Because she didn't want to bury  _this part_  of her past.

Still, Leah had no idea how it could be possible. What he asked was so much bigger than what she'd faced with him in Chicago. There were so many more lives intertwined in those mistakes, and so many more people she needed to face.

And while she already knew going home to visit could mend  _parts_ of her broken past, she couldn't understand how Embry seemed to think it would be the answer the two of them were searching for. That it would solve whatever this was, and how he could still be naive enough to think everything would work out and they'd be able to keep what solace they'd found in each others arms.

How he possibly felt a simple visit would be enough. For him. For her.

Because it  _wasn't_ , and even Leah knew that - because Embry had a life in La Push and she had one in Chicago, both lives neither one were willing to give up at a point where whatever was happening between them was still stuck in a gray limbo somewhere between black and white.

Leah shook her head anyway, another part of her not really understanding why. As she felt Embry's eyes regarding her carefully, knowing what she'd find if she looked at him - that same part of him that was always waiting...for her to speak. To act. To move.

She pulled in a ragged breath.

"I don't know what you want me to tell you, Em."

Embry paused before he pushed his response out just behind a heavy breath. "Just tell me you'll come. Just give me that." He waited a moment, just long enough for the words to root inside Leah. For her to consider them  _again_. "Right now...that's all I want."

"I told you," she pushed, forcing her jaw to relax. That part of her suddenly wanting to keep the words in. "I don't know if I'm ready for that. I just...I can't just tell you I'll go. Not yet."

Rehearsed words she'd come to count on. Knowing what they meant.

Knowing everything she could lose - everything she was giving up - by speaking them.

Beside her, Embry's inhale was struggled - like he was fighting something inside him. Like he was warring with himself on whether or not to keep pushing.

"Leah, I'm not...asking you to stay," he finally murmured, his voice a little too steady. A little too controlled as Leah watched his hands press firmly into the concrete below them. "I just...want you to come. You wanted me to be there for you, and I'm telling you...that I can't go home knowing that's still out there…that it's something you need to do. And I can't be there... _without you_...unless I know you'll be okay here."

The struggle - the audible torment in his words - tightened the knot in Leah's chest, pulling at something deep inside her. Bringing dangerously close to the surface a piece of her that wished like hell she could get rid of the fear she still carried. That she could take that little bit of pain she could hear laced through his words - the way his body seemed to fight each and every one of them - and get rid of it all.

That she was strong enough to trust it would be okay...

To trust what Jacob told her about the hole in their lives - the one she'd inadvertently put there when she ran. To trust it would be okay if she returned. That it  _wouldn't_ do more damage to those she left behind. That it wouldn't do more damage to  _her_.

Feeling Embry's hand when it once again found hers again - when it relaxed beneath her touch - Leah closed her eyes and wondered.

She wondered if she could do it...if she could do it without hurting  _Embry_ more than she already was - through her fumbling words, the ones that didn't matter. Through her inability to speak the ones that did, and her refusal to validate his with anything he could hang onto.

For selfishly wanting him to stay - for wanting to go - so she could keep the one part of her past she knew made her better.

Still, Leah couldn't speak. Still, all she could do was turn her head, hearing the first firework launch somewhere in the distance. Finally looking at him.

"I've given you everything I can, Embry...for now," she assured steadily, eyes widening with the only sincerity she could give him. The only promise she would allow. "Can it...be enough? Will you believe me if I tell you that? Can you just...enjoy the rest of the night and remember everything that's happened, and take that with you when you go?"

Leah could see the brilliant light from the firework - hues of sparkling red and white - in the corners of Embry's eyes, not quite masking the depth of them. Not quite hiding how they took her words, how they watched hers, and silently considered them.

How she knew it was nowhere near enough but prayed to whatever god was out there that it would be.

"And just know," her voice was barely audible, lost beneath the loud boom from the second firework igniting over the harbor, "that I'll keep trying, and...I'll keep letting you remind me, for as long as I can. And I'll be okay here, Embry, no matter what. Because of  _you_...I'll be okay."

It wasn't enough; she could see it in those eyes. It was clear. He wanted more than that. He wanted more than words.

He wanted  _her_...with him...in more ways than she could fathom or acknowledge in that moment.

He wanted her to himself.

_Mine..._

Leah shuddered when he finally released the breath he was holding. Her entire body frozen when he lifted his arm, blazing fingers tracing the length of her jaw, his eyes looking anywhere but hers. As he made whatever decision he had to in that moment, taking what he wanted and what she was able to give him and coming to some kind of an understanding within himself.

"Embry?"

She had to ask. She had to know it would be enough.

Regardless, she could see her answer in those eyes. In the small smile he gave her.

He believed she wouldn't forget, and he would stop short of asking anything more from her. He would take what she was offering, even if she desperately wanted to say more. Even if she hated herself for not being able to.

"Okay…"

Leah lost track of the fireworks that followed, the light disappearing from Embry's eyes when she finally leaned in, unable to stand it another fucking second. Wanting to  _stop talking_  when she allowed both hands to raise - to hold onto him for dear life - as she roughly pressed her lips to his. As she solidified a reassurance she couldn't quite turn into a promise.

But it could wait.

 _All_ of it could wait, Leah reminded herself when she sighed against Embry's mouth. When she felt one hand curl around the back of her neck, the other pushing through her hair. When he pulled her closer, wanting to keep her there. Remembering how they couldn't let a single second to go to waste.

Because in that moment, the only guarantee they had was that night. Hours filled with promises they  _could_ count on, until tomorrow came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: More Love Bubble! The hours are ticking….
> 
> Can't wait to hear your thoughts!


	18. Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My girl pmu made me a REALLY yummy banner to go with this chapter. If you guys want to see it (and you're 18 or older) come check out this story at Tricky Raven, an awesome wolf-centric fanfiction site I'm an admin on... trickyraven.ning.com. Hope to see you there!

_**Suggested Listening: "Inscape" by Stateless, "Fire In The Water" by Feist, "Shelter" by Birdy, "Say Anything" by Anderson East, "Without You" by One Two** _

Pressing her forearms against the terrace railing outside Embry's hotel room, Leah took a deep breath, releasing it into the early-morning darkness. She let her gaze sweep over the glowing buildings in the distance, silently listing their names in her head.

Invisible storm clouds rolled in overhead – occasionally lit up by quick, brilliant bursts of lightning – threatening rain at any moment. She couldn't sleep. She couldn't because she could feel it inside her – the impending storm as it rolled overhead in the dark night sky.

She'd slipped out of bed, glancing at bright red numbers on an alarm clock that screamed the time at her. It was past three a.m., so she was quiet, careful not to wake Embry when she let herself onto the terrace.

When she stayed there, focusing on the clouds instead.

On  _another_  storm. One that hadn't really went away. One where the proof lay in her restlessness, despite her best efforts to distract herself. Despite Embry's.

It was a good distraction, if nothing else...what she was doing in that moment.

And she needed it because of what would happen in a few hours, when the sun would emerge from some unknown edge of Lake Michigan. Any distraction was welcome at that point, because she had a feeling she'd need them more than ever once night left and morning decided to show up.

The reality was hitting her square in the chest. Choosing that moment to reveal its full weight.

In a few hours, it would be over. Embry would be on the other side of the country, she would be in Chicago, and there would be no more dragging it out.

And she would have a choice to make.

Leah started when she heard the soft sound of rustling curtains, giving away someone's presence behind her. Embry's movements were muted as he slipped silently through the terrace door. Lacing her fingers together, the air in her lungs left in a swift rush. She straightened, damp wind pushing her hair behind her shoulders the same time she tried to ignore the dull ache in her gut and the way her mind wouldn't stop racing.

"What are you doing out here?"

Her hands curled around the railing. Embry was directly behind her, and she could feel the heat reaching out - a subtle, slow shiver erupting across her flesh when his breath pushed across the back of her neck. Sweeping away some of that anxiety and leaving warmth in its place.

_She still had a few hours..._

Strong hands brushed against her hips. Leah tightened her grip on the cool metal when she felt his lips just behind her ear. Still, she tilted her head back instinctively, leaning into him, finding the spot between his neck and shoulder. Soaking up his presence while she could, her eyes still fixed on the cracks of light breaking the clouds in two.

"You're really leaving," she whispered, the words thick on her tongue. How she realized she was finally able to say it. Despite how she'd managed to avoid the words until that moment - how they'd already talked about it. Even though it was something he knew just as well as she did.

Even though it was something she needed to say anyway.

Hands tightened on her hips for a moment, loosening their grip just as quickly. Instead, Embry's arms slipped protectively around her waist. Pressing a gentle kiss against her hair, his sigh pushed through the strands.

"I know," Embry replied, his own subdued anxiety back in his voice.

Leah held her breath, tongue heavy with what felt like a million unspoken words. All the words she hadn't been able to say earlier and all the things she'd said wrong. Remembering for the hundredth time that night everything that happened the two weeks leading up to that moment. Everything in brilliant definition - fourteen days that felt like a lifetime both in the worst and best possible ways.

Closing her eyes, Leah breathed deeply through her nose. Taking every ounce of his scent with her, putting it somewhere inside her for safekeeping.

Fighting the urge to suddenly ask him to stay, even if she had no idea why...or how it would work. In the same moment, knowing he couldn't - knowing he had people back home who counted on him. Who needed him.

_Even though she did, too..._

Leah sighed, swallowing the words. Pushing the only thing she'd allow herself to say out with a ragged breath. Something she hadn't been able to say earlier that night, but suddenly seemed so easy to put a voice to.

"I don't want you to go…"

Showing him that vulnerability, and wondering why in the hell she hadn't done it earlier.

She heard Embry take a deep breath as he turned his face, murmuring against her hair.

"Leah...I'm leaving, but I'm not  _going_ anywhere."

Leah closed her eyes, hanging onto those words. Knowing that if there ever was a moment to start believing in promises, this was it. That she should try to find some shred of trust inside her. To try like hell to believe him.

To hang onto it, because despite what she told him earlier, she still wasn't entirely sure she could do this without him...

"You told me you'd try...so will I. We'll figure something out," he said quietly, interrupting her thoughts. Bringing her back. "Maybe...once the garage is open, and things settle down a bit, I can..."

Closing her eyes, she twisted in his arms, wriggling between him and the railing until she was facing him, turning her back on the churning skies. Not wanting him to say it, regardless of what she thought. Not wanting him to imply he'd give up any part of the life he'd worked so hard for. That he'd sacrifice anything for her.

His words fell short when she peered up and pressed an index finger to his lips.

She shook her head silently, eyelids still pressed together. She didn't open them until she took a deep breath, a part of her wanting him to say what he was going to say anyway but a larger part still not wanting to hear it.

"Let's not talk about it," she pressed swiftly. "I don't wanna talk anymore."

It took him several moments but she held his gaze – her eyes sweeping over his barely-illuminated features – until he looked away, nodding the same time she saw him swallow thickly.

Reminding her of earlier…

_Give me something to take with me._

_Tell me you'll come home..._

When Leah was sure he wasn't going to protest, she let herself turn back around, leaning forward against the railing. Feeling the first drop of rain on her knuckles as it fell from the sky.

Closing her eyes when she realized Embry was still there, one hand slid warmly over hers, the other tracing the curve of her neck. Drawing a slow, leisurely line across her flesh, traveling across her shoulder and journeying down her chest, flirting with the place where the thin, hotel robe she was wearing met her skin.

"Come back to bed then," he whispered, his fingernails ghosting across her collarbone, his breath warm in her ear.

The corner of Leah's mouth pulled into a smile, and she captured her bottom lip between her teeth to keep it from widening, even though she knew Embry couldn't see it.

"The rain is different here," she spoke again. Pointless words as Embry's other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. Her body suddenly pliable beneath his hands, she let hers fall, landing on his fingers where they rested on the cinched knot holding her robe closed. Pressing her palm harder against his knuckles...keeping him there. "It's warmer. It doesn't smell the same. It's almost...sweeter."

Embry's fingers moved beneath hers, somehow managing to loosen the knot at her waist. With a knowing smile, Leah leaned back, letting one arm reach behind her, fingers finding the rough skin of his neck the moment she felt his lips move near her ear. The vibration of his voice across her skin sending a subtle shiver down her spine.

"Is that what you wanna talk about?"

The heady words were rich, low, as they fell from his tongue, and she felt the fabric fall slack at her waist the same moment one large, blazing hand slipped beneath cotton. The damp air was cold on her exposed body, but his fingers soothed it. Warming her as they explored satin skin, lightly tracing the curve of her breast.

Savoring it...

But only for a moment.

Leah's breath hitched when his palm possessively covered the swell of flesh. All words forgotten when Embry's other hand – splayed across her bare midsection – moved torturously slow, pushing fabric aside as it traveled lower. Her body already on fire, Leah's free hand curled tighter around the terrace railing, the mist caused by the cool rain now falling in sheets from the sky doing little to tame the burn.

The smoldering igniting to flames when thick, undeviating fingers slipped between parted thighs.

Leah's body instinctively arched forward, a surprised and pleasured cry leaving her throat before she could stop it, but Embry pulled her back against him, his breath labored – wanting – as it washed across her skin. His mouth hot where it rested against her neck. His fingers moved, teasing. Unforgiving. Lips pressed to her pulse, tongue peeking out as it tasted the mix of rain and sweat collecting on copper flesh. Fanning those flames as Leah's fingernails dug into his neck.

She was trapped, searching for air and respite but bound to his body by strong, purposeful hands. Fuck, she could already feel herself falling apart, a euphoric rush of fire pushing through her veins with every sweep of his fingers. With the way his mouth moved against her skin.

A crack of thunder above pulled her eyes open.

One by one, her fingers unfurled from the railing, hand falling. Seeking out the one that held her captive, her palm sliding over the back of his. Claiming it. She grasped it between her fingers, pulling it away. Guiding it across the smooth planes of her stomach

Freeing herself, but never losing track of where Embry was. How she could feel his need for her against the curve of her ass.

But  _she_  needed more.

She needed more than all the heat on her skin, more than the feel of it against her flesh.

She needed it inside her. She needed  _him_  – again. Completely, wholly, while he was still there. Before he left. Before he took it all with him.

Urgency consumed her as she twisted in his arms, hands reaching up, grasping his neck. Pulling him to her until she captured those heated lips with her own, recognizing a similar need – a familiar desperation – in the way he still held her to him. In the way his mouth moved against hers, his tongue sweeping across her lips. Parting them, seeking solace against hers as he deepened the kiss.

Feet moving, Leah backed them away from the railing, the edges of rain disappearing beneath the protection of the terrace above them. She tasted his breath, the sweetness of his lips on hers, his palms grazing across her shoulders. Pushing back the robe until she let her arms drop to her sides for a single moment, the thin garment falling from her body. Her flesh completely exposed against the heat of his.

His hands traced patterns on her skin, mapping out paths across the curve of her waist, his mouth still drinking in the essence of hers. Her hands moved as well, fingers finding the waistband of the shorts he wore, removing the obtrusive clothing from his body in one swift fluid movement.

Fingers pushing through her hair for a brief moment, he pulled away, ebony eyes dark and filled with need when she could finally see them. Leah's lips parted, breath catching in her throat when she felt his hands tightly grip the back of her thighs. A knowing smile crept across her mouth when her own feet left the ground. When she clung to him as he lithely lowered them both onto the chair behind him, his body prone and willing between her legs.

A languid sigh escaped Leah's throat as she took in Embry's purposeful expression, as her fingers lifted and brushed a strand of raven hair from his forehead. Relishing the softness that still lingered in his eyes. The way each one watched her, hanging on to every movement. Refusing to miss a single thing.

The way he smiled when she let her hands fall, curling despondently around his shoulders. Steadying her shaky frame as she lifted herself, letting his hands guide her, fingers curled tightly against her hips.

Leah's eyes closed, a wordless gasp escaping her mouth, when he lowered her onto him in one slow, delirious movement. His hips pushing up, filling her completely.

And she held on for dear life, refusing to take a moment. Refusing to waste a single second but never wanting it to end, lifting herself just enough and letting him do the rest. Allowing Embry to lead her, surrendering herself to him...again. Putting whatever kind of trust she had inside her implicitly in his hands, Embry's fingernails scraped against flesh with each movement of his body beneath hers.

Fuck, she couldn't get used to it – the feel of him. His body inside her while his scent – his heat – wrapped around her from the inside out, consuming her. Threatening to rip her apart at the seams.

She didn't know how he did it.

How it was so  _different_  with him.

How she couldn't get enough. How she didn't want it to end.

But she didn't care, because in that moment, she was too filled – with a consuming desire, full of a need for more.

Full of hope for a future she found herself desperately hoping Embry would somehow be a part of.

_Just tell me you'll come..._

Opening her eyes, Leah's hands wrapped tighter against his shoulders when he shifted beneath her, his frame straightening. Another clap of thunder swallowed the cry that fell from her lips, caused by his movement. Embry's hands spread against her spine, the hum of rain and the thick, damp air surrounding them enveloping her soft moans.

She leaned forward, cradling Embry's face between her palms. Burying her nose in his hair when he rocked forward, his mouth tracing heated lines in the space between her breasts. His tongue tasting her skin, relinquishing control for a moment as Leah refused to relent, her own movements increasing in speed. Refusing to slow down, even though every cell in her body begged her to prolong it.

Rocking back, Embry peered up at her, eyes holding hers for a single moment before dropping. Before moving across the paralyzing smile lifting the corners of her mouth, watching as his name got lost on her tongue. As she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, containing her cries. As he witnessed what he was doing to her body, both inside and out.

One blazing hand disappeared from her hip, reappearing as it drifted down the length of her jaw. As he caught her eyes once more.

Holding her, as Leah was overcome with the certainty she could see in them.

_I can't be there...without you..._

Closing her eyes, Leah tipped her head back.

Because in that instant, it was too much...and she couldn't imagine losing it. She couldn't fathom giving up the way he was looking at her. Those moments...the one they were in. The way his breath danced across her shimmering skin. The way one hand still pressed into her back, fingernails dragging lightly down her flesh.

The way his other hand moved, abandoning her cheek and curling gently around the base of her neck despite the renewed purpose of his movements beneath her. Urging her to look back. To look at  _him_.

How with a heavy sigh, she finally complied, a selfish, needy part of her unwilling to disobey.

_Those eyes..._

She needed those eyes. The way they saw her, the way they  _looked_  at her. The silent promises they made, beyond simply being there, even if she was still learning how to believe them. The care they held, reflecting back everything she wanted to see in herself.

_She couldn't get used to it..._

She didn't  _want_ to, a part of her for that simple reason. She never wanted to lose that feeling, his warmth. What it did to her.

What he meant to her...

So when he smiled, she fell slack beneath his hands, leaning down. Pushing it all away and doing the best she could. Surrendering to him, wanting him to feel what she was feeling, too. Meaning it all as she pressed her lips to his with an intensity and a breathlessness that rivaled all the moments with him that came before that one.

Taking a moment to savor it – to memorize it all – before she let go completely.

As the fire consuming her from the inside out receded. Pulling in. Gathering within before it exploded all over again.

As she gave herself to him completely, in every way she could, in one single moment.

His mouth swallowed the cry that escaped hers, hands soothing her trembling frame. As the heat pushed through her veins, rendering her helpless. Her body refusing to move as Embry continued to push, prolonging it all. As she continued to fall, even as Embry eventually stilled beneath her, a beautifully exhausted cry slipping past his lips.

She didn't move – she  _couldn't_ , the euphoric heat still lingering beneath her skin, fingers still digging into Embry's shoulders while his splayed tightly against her back. As they both caught their breath, and strong, deft hands held her together even after she'd fallen apart.

Reminding her all over again that he'd be there...no matter what. Carrying all the reassurance she needed. Giving her the strength they always did.

Silently promising they wouldn't let go.

And in that moment, it was enough. In that moment, she believed him.

In that moment, she wasn't going to let go either.

Letting out a slow breath, she rocked forward, pressing her forehead to his, skin slick beneath hers. Closing her eyes, Leah felt his warm, labored breaths on her mouth when she opened hers to speak.

Refusing to overthink the words she would say, his still lingering in the back of her head. A request. A belief in her.

_Give me something to take with me..._

"I'll come..."

The words were barely a whisper, but she knew he could hear them.

Her back was cool, the absence of his hands noticeable, until the warmth reappeared on her face, gently pushing her back. His eyes wide and lips parted in surprise when she finally allowed her lids to slowly open.

"Leah..." His voice was hesitant but full of wild, heedless hope.

She couldn't help it as she felt her hand release its grip on his flesh, reaching up, watching her fingers in awe as they traced their own heated trail down the length of his jaw. Relishing the way the roughness felt against her skin.

Yet it gave her a moment to pause, to put things into perspective, for whatever reason. To remember what it was she didn't want to give up - that kind heart, unwavering patience and steady strength she had taken for granted one too many times.

Reminding her that even if she had no fucking idea how they'd figure out what they were doing, even she  _wasn't_ strong enough to do it on her own – if, when he left, she somehow lost what small parts of herself she'd found in the fourteen days leading up to that moment – he would still be there.

And he wouldn't let her fall.

He wouldn't let her forget.

And this much she could give him. This much she could give  _herself_ , and she'd worry about any consequences later.

Because she needed more of this. She needed more of  _him_.

"I'll come," she repeated, shifting her gaze to his eyes, allowing him a small, sincere smile. "To Seth's wedding...I'll come."

Embry blinked in awe, hesitating for a single moment before his mouth widened into a grin. Before he reached up, the backs of his fingers tracing her features, a heady pride glistening in his eyes.

Leah shivered beneath the movement, swallowing back any second thoughts. Telling herself it was time...to take that next step. To face what she left behind. To see if there was anything to salvage from the wreckage she left when she did.

To go home.

And the thought still scared the hell out of her, but the fear was squelched slightly when she leaned forward, pressing her lips to Embry's without a second thought. Smiling against his mouth when he finally pulled away, before kissing him again.

So she let him seal her decision beneath fervent lips, fingers twisting through her hair and his grip on her back tightening. As Leah once again felt that warmth, intertwining with the fear as both coursed through her veins. An inexplicable elation  _still_ tangible inside her because she finally knew…

This wouldn't be it.

And so long as Embry was there, she could handle whatever was left.

* * *

In six years, Leah had lost count of how many times she'd been to O'Hare. She knew the airport well - how to time it right so you could make it in and out of security in less than thirty minutes, the best places to park, how long it took to get from one concourse to another.

It was clockwork, really.

But Thursday was different.  _She_ was different, walking through the main terminal in a daze. Not really sure where she was going. Ignoring the gaping hole she could feel forming in the pit of her stomach. Refusing to acknowledge it, simply gripping Embry's hand tighter and giving silent thanks he had a physical strength that matched her own.

That it wasn't really possible to break his fingers.

Because it was only minutes away now - looming - and when it got there, Leah wasn't entirely sure she'd be able to let go.

Waking up that morning, she remembered what she'd told him. She remembered what she'd promised, even if she never used that particular word. It was as good as done, and there would be no backing out of it now.

Still, an hour after she woke up - after she changed back into the clothes she wore the day before and Embry moved around the hotel room, packing his suitcase - Leah sat silently on the edge of the bed, watching him. Feeling that hole start to form and knowing that even if she wanted to take it back - even if she wanted to change her mind - there was no way in hell she would.

It was both bitter and sweet - knowing what it could potentially cost her and what it would bring to the surface and force her to face.

Knowing she'd get  _this_ back in less than three weeks...

Knowing she'd have to take the bad with the good, allowing one to help her through the other.

And she hoped like hell it would be enough.

Because as much as Embry had done for her over the past two weeks, she had a feeling there would be nothing he could do or say to get her through this moment completely unscathed. To make it any easier to bear. To soothe that fear the moment he stepped on the plane and was no longer in front of her.

She knew it the moment she lifted her head, eyes finding the entrance for the airport security checkpoint. As Embry's pace slowed, though it wasn't enough as Leah realized she'd stopped walking completely.

Taking a deep, ragged breath, Leah squeezed his hand impossibly tighter.

"This is as far as I can go."

Leah pulled her gaze from the floor in time to see Embry stop. To see him turn around, his free hand tightening its grip on the strap of the backpack he carried. Ignoring the others pushing past them in the crowded airport, eyes regarding her with an infinite softness she couldn't comprehend.

His lips parted, but no words came out, even as Leah refused to look away, watching a million things pass through those eyes. Watching him silently remember every moment and every other word they'd said to each other leading up to this.

Doing what he needed to soothe the emptiness in her chest, the dull ache in her stomach, despite not being able to get rid of it completely.

Fuck, she wanted to say something else, but she didn't know what. No words seemed good enough, nothing seemed right. They'd said almost everything they could, yet she wanted to promise him a hundred things...and she wanted the same in return.

But he didn't, and neither did she.

Instead, he took a step forward, closing the small distance between them as Leah found herself doing the same. As she finally let go of his hand in order to lift hers. As she pressed them to his chest the and he brought his to her cheeks, framing her face. Tipping her head up and urging her to look at him.

She held onto that heat, to that confidence in his eyes, as tightly as she held onto him.

Reminding herself silently that she could do this.

_That she would be fine..._

That in less than three weeks, she'd face the biggest test of her life. She'd face it, and she'd try like hell to conquer it.

Knowing that in the same number of days, the person whose warmth she could feel soaking into her skin would be right back where he was. That he'd be standing in front of her, proving there were battles she'd already fought and won, ones that prepared her for what was to come.

_She could do this…_

"I'll see you soon," Embry whispered, the smallest of smiles spreading across his lips.

Leah couldn't help how the words stole her breath - how there was a part of her thinking the heavy knot in her stomach, the way her fingers trembled as they curled into Embry's shirt, maybe had less to do with her faith in herself and more to do with her simply not wanting to let go.

_God, it fucking hurt..._

"I know," she murmured, noticing how it took every ounce of strength in her body to look up from her fingers, to catch those eyes for a final time. To give him the most sincere smile she could manage considering the circumstances.

He returned it, his own widening. Easing the somberness in his eyes and doing what he could to take some of Leah's anxiety with it.

"I meant what I said," he continued softly, both eyebrows lifting with conviction. Leaving it at that. Leaving Leah wondering what he meant, while another part of her was grateful she could simply fill in the blanks. That she could take what she wanted back with her when he went away.

Leah's mouth was dry - the corners of her eyes burning - when she finally parted her lips to speak.

"Remind me again…"

A brand-new smile swept across Embry's expression as she felt him tighten his hold on her face. As he leaned down and she closed her eyes, as warm lips hovered just over hers. As he took a moment - breathing her in - before closing the small distance, his mouth covering hers with a frustrating gentleness that made the burning in her eyes intensify. That made the knot in her chest tighten.

But for a single moment, it dissolved. For an instant, as his lips pressed gently - repeatedly - against hers, it was swept away. As she focused on nothing but the person in front of her, memorizing the way it felt, cataloging every single movement. Keeping it for moments she was sure would be just as hard as this. Remembering it all…

_Just in case..._

It was Embry who pulled away first, lingering for a moment as he let his eyes travel over her face. As hers followed, breath catching in her throat when he leaned forward, pressing one last kiss to her forehead.

"I'll call you when I get home," he whispered against her skin.

Closing her eyes, Leah could only nod.

She fought herself when he took a step back, his hand recapturing hers. She fought the urge to hang on tighter when Embry offered her one last smile that was both reassuring and gut-wrenching as Leah felt both pulling at her insides.

"You better," she whispered, smiling at him in return. Hoping like hell her exterior showed the firmness - the confidence that spurred her decision the night before. The confidence she  _knew_ was there - the strength Embry had always seen - simply overshadowed by the inexplicable difficulty of the moment in front of her.

She exhaled, pushing just a couple more words out. A reassurance of her own.

"I'll see you in a few weeks."

His smile stayed where it was, a calmness washing over his expression even when he took another step back.

Followed by another…

As Leah kept her eyes open, holding her breath. As she was finally forced to let go of his hand and watch as Embry backed away slowly, growing the distance between them. As she crossed her arms tightly in front of her chest when he finally dropped his gaze toward the floor. When he finally turned around, his tall frame merging easily with the crowd approaching security.

Leah watched him go. She stood there, watching until she could no longer see him. Figuring out where the burning in her eyes came from the moment she felt a trail of moisture work its way down her cheek, the wetness evaporating from her hot skin before the tear ever reached her chin.

She looked for Embry again, but she couldn't see him.

He was gone.

Leah closed her eyes, reminding herself...

_Only for a little while._

And she knew she was right. There was nothing he could have done…

With a frustrated groan, Leah reached up, viciously swiping the tear from her jaw. Sucking in a deep breath.

It was all up to her now.

Standing by herself in the middle of the airport, she told herself that no matter what, she had to keep moving. Even if Embry wasn't there. Even if she didn't want to. Even if it seemed impossible in that moment. Even if it might in all the moments that would follow.

Regardless, she knew she had to - she had to figure out if she could do this without him. If she'd be strong enough to go back when he  _wasn't_ in front of her, telling her she could. If she'd be able to face her mother, Seth, the pack. Sam. Emily…

Because she hadn't reached the end of her road - not yet.

In fact, it was far from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it, everyone! Love bubble popped... :\
> 
> So I like to imagine this would be like an 'end scene' where we transition the story from an imaginary part 1 to part 2. You know what that means, right? Scene change next chapter! And by that, I mean location…. ;)
> 
> Can't wait to hear your thoughts!


	19. Home

_**Suggested Listening: "Ghost Town" by Radical Face, "Home" by Daughter, _ **"Rearrange the Art" by Sarah Jarosz,**_ "Dark Days" by Punch Brothers, "Lifeforms" by Daughter, "I Love You, Sleepyhead" by Lanterns by the Lake** _

The window of the car was barely open a crack, but it didn't matter. The scent was everywhere, wrapping itself around Leah's senses. Assaulting her insides…

Bringing forward everything she had ran from - everything she had left behind - in the span of a single moment.

The scent of  _home_.

Holding her breath, Leah's grip on the steering wheel tightened. There was nothing she could do to stop it. Giving in, she focused on something else instead - the pavement rushing beneath the car. The barely-audible sound of music filtering through the rental car's speakers, filling the silence in the small space.

It still didn't matter.

Passing the last bend in Highway 101, Leah tried to keep her eyes on the road - but she couldn't, faltering as she tried to take deep breath after deep breath, to calm her pounding heart when her eyes swept over the lush, green landscape. Familiar, sprawling hills covered with a thick blanket of decades-old conifers. The low fog clinging to them, the entire land shrouded by dense, gray-white clouds, threatening rain at any moment.

It was easy to see how in six years, none of it had changed.

She hadn't missed a single thing, the image of the land she used to call home rising up around her. Swallowing her whole, whether she liked it or not.

The three weeks had passed faster than she thought possible...

The day Embry left, she tried to put off the reality of it - the fact he was gone and it wouldn't be long before she truly found out whether or not she could do any of this without him there.

She knew she had to move.

But she also knew she needed a moment.

So Leah waited in one of the airport lounges, watching as the planes came and went. Sitting there longer than she should have, she knew Embry was long gone before finally downing the last bit of whiskey she let turn warm in its glass. Before she finally stood, gathering her composure and what was left of her frazzled nerves. Leaving the airport, Leah went home to an apartment - heading back into a city - she suddenly knew would be missing something when she did.

Still, she didn't cease to move. She didn't wither up and shrink away from the life she knew she  _still_ had to live.

Throwing herself into her work, Leah kept busy as best as she could, passing the time with at least one thing she knew wouldn't set her off track. That wouldn't undo every step she'd put behind her in the two weeks leading up to it.

The Saturday after Embry left, Leah went to lunch with Autumn, just as she'd promised.

The two women had always got along, and even though Leah was willing to see if she could form a friendship with her, she was still surprised when the lunch lasted two hours. When talk of work and promotions turned to questions about life. About the years before it, and shells of stories that led them both to where they were that day.

Autumn was an eager listener and Leah never saw the judgment in her eyes - the one she always imagined. One lunch turned into two, which turned into more, and Leah finally found someone new to ebb the sting of a general loneliness she was now completely aware of. One she hadn't recognized before that night in a bar when unsuspecting eyes found someone from her past. An empty feeling that once led her to self-destructive decisions she had no desire to repeat.

Not anymore.

Leah kept herself away from temptation and triggers, staying home on Friday and Saturday nights. Watching every single Brat Pack movie that existed and going so far as buying a pair of sweatpants from Costco just to keep from having  _that_ conversation with herself again. There were moments she turned completely neurotic, at best, even signing up for a cooking class to simply stay busy. Citing the fact she needed to learn how to fucking cook anyway and it was ridiculous that at twenty-seven years old, she  _didn't_ already know how.

Even though two classes in she realized she wasn't as bad of a cook as she thought. As she realized maybe she paid a little more attention to her mother during all the hours she watched her floating around her kitchen back home…

Leah kept living. On her own and in a way that was still infinitely better than the life she had before.

She kept  _moving_ , even though Embry was two thousand miles away. She did because with or without him, he done just enough before he left to show her how. To make sure she was standing solidly on her own two feet before he went home.

Even so, she couldn't deny a small part buried deep inside her - one that thought maybe the distance would help. Help what, she wasn't sure, but that maybe it would make it easier. That it would take away some of that need inside of her. That it would ease the anxiety she'd felt before Embry left and get rid of that unwillingness she felt to give it all up. To move onto something else and maybe let what happened go...

It hadn't.

It was still there. All those feelings, buried beneath the day to day. Beneath busy work days and afternoons spent with Autumn, doing things girls were supposed to do, a dull ache still lingered in her chest - one that had nothing to do with pain or loss or past mistakes.

Having  _everything_ to do with an empty space inside her. A feeling like she was  _still_ missing something, the way it resonated from that exact spot beneath her ribs confirming who and what had filled it.

Leah still talked to Embry - almost everyday, one of them called the other. Aside from that, random text messages punctuated her day, and every single time her phone lit up - every time it rang - she felt that warmth again.

The space inside her was filled, and when it was gone, she missed it like hell.

And it scared the shit out of her, the intensity of the longing inside her so bad at times it fucking hurt. How she lingered on the phone and how there were nights she'd find any excuse she could to drag out the conversations. To keep him on the phone just a few minutes longer.

So much so, there was a moment she could have slipped. When her phone lit up one Thursday night. When it  _wasn't_ Embry, a single glance at the screen revealing it was someone else.

_Jason…_

She stared at the phone longer than she should have. She thought about it - for a  _second_ , she considered it, wondering if maybe...just  _maybe_...it could fill this other empty space inside her. If maybe he could make  _this_ ache go away…

Yet Leah remembered the last time she'd seen him - the spot she was in, and everything that was twisted and fucked up inside her. She remembered who  _he_ was - a man who once filled  _another_ need, a far less shallow one born from something completely different. Something much more destructive.

Someone who took what he wanted but gave her nothing in return.

And Leah didn't want it, knowing perfectly well she couldn't replace emptiness with emptiness. With something even more damaging.

She deleted the text, never reading it. Deleting his number from her phone for good measure, knowing it would have been no different. Knowing it wasn't what she needed - that it would only send her running back to a place she'd just clawed her way out of.

Knowing it wasn't worth it and it wasn't a battle she wanted to have again, perfectly aware of what still lay ahead of her.

What -  _who_ \- was waiting for her in La Push.

What it was like to feel something  _real_...

The day before she was scheduled to fly non-stop from O'Hare to Seattle, she couldn't wipe the fucking smile off her face. She refused to worry, to think about anything else. Even when her boss, Wes, emailed her at five minutes to six, just before she was supposed to leave - reminding her that he needed an answer by the following week if she planned to take the promotion they'd offered her a month earlier - she swallowed back the huge, anxious mass in her throat.

She  _refused_.

Because Leah couldn't bring herself to dread all the things that would be waiting for her when she got back. When she stepped off that plane the next day.

And she hadn't. Somehow, she'd made it through.

Until now.

Leah's hands trembled against the steering wheel. Reality had set in the moment the air hit her outside of Sea-Tac, bringing it all back with an unforgiving force. Jerking her violently back to reality. Reminding her of all the things - and all the people - she had left to face, overshadowing everything else.

She lost count of the number of times she thought about turning around - that she thought about taking the ditch in the crappy hybrid car the rental company had given her, swinging around to the other side of the highway, and going back the way she came.

But she didn't. Instead, Leah watched her knuckles turn white while pressing her foot on the accelerator, shattering the speed limit on more than one occasion. A valiant but futile attempt to outrun her own self-doubt.

After all, since nothing had changed, she probably still knew where the cops hid out to grab unsuspecting speeders.

That, and she'd sent Embry a text message when she was waiting for her luggage at the Seattle airport, letting him know her flight made it there safely.

He text her back a few minutes later, and there was no real message on her screen when she checked it.

Just an address.

The rental car had GPS, but Leah knew she didn't need it. Heaving a deep breath, she made the right turn just before she reached Forks. The familiar terrain framing La Push Road sped by her car, and Leah ignored how her heart pounded relentlessly in her chest.

She knew she'd come too far at that point, because only a handful of minutes separated her from everything she left behind years earlier.

_It was too late to turn back…_

The minutes she'd counted on for courage went by faster than Leah wanted them to, and it wasn't long before she started passing houses she recognized. A couple times she caught herself slowing down and wondering if the families that used to live there still did. Chiding herself, because she already knew the answer to that question.

No one ever left La Push.

No one but her.

She hadn't told anyone she was coming - not her mother, not even Seth. A large part of her knew she probably should have, but another part of her didn't, just in case...in case she decided she  _couldn't_ do it. She'd called her mother back two days after Embry left, and all Leah could tell her was she would  _possibly_ be there. That  _maybe_ she would come.

When she did, she tried like hell to ignore the inherent disappointment in her mother's voice.

Instead, Leah tried to tell herself she'd prove her mother wrong - that she  _would_ be there. That this time, she would fucking show up.

She wanted to say it. She wanted to tell her mother the very words running rampant through her head...

But that ever-present flicker of doubt - of self-preservation - was there, so Leah kept her mouth shut. She stopped short of making promises...because more than anything, she didn't want to be the source of disappointment if she didn't show up. She didn't want to let her mother down. Let  _Seth_ down. She'd done enough of that already, and she knew making them a promise that big and  _breaking it_  would be the last straw.

Not showing up altogether was what they'd expect.

Leah regretted the rental car the second she hit the core of the reservation. No amount of alleys or side roads lessened the strange looks she got from people on the streets, from the men coming in from a day of fishing. From the women coming out of their fucking Wednesday afternoon card group at the Rec Center as they tried to figure out who was behind the wheel of that strange car they didn't recognize...

 _Jesus, things really_ hadn't  _changed._

She knew because it had been the same routine for as long as she could remember, a schedule occupied by faces she knew just as well. Ones who probably would know  _her_ if the car had simply rolled by a little slower. If she hadn't tried desperately to hide her face under the facade of shielding her eyes from a sun that was nowhere to be found.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Leah turned onto the side road leading to the marina, knowing exactly where she was going at that point. Knowing she was only about two blocks from  _safety_. Feeling the two-ton weight sitting on her chest dissipate little by little as she drove, Leah finally pulled the car off the road onto the grass across from the building.

 _This_ was something she could do.

 _This_ was someone she could face. Easily.

Grabbing her purse from the passenger seat, Leah scanned the land outside of the car, eyes lingering on the churning ocean a few hundred feet away. Resting on James Island in the distance. On the groups of people scattered on the beach.

Releasing the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, Leah flung open the door, hoisting her purse on her shoulder and stumbling out of the car on legs numb from traveling. Refusing to pay any attention to it or the smells or the sounds assaulting her senses when she did. Slamming the door shut, she strode purposefully across the road, dipping her head toward the ground. Hoping like hell no one would appear out of thin air in the time it would take her to reach the old, wooden stairs leading to an upstairs apartment.

Probably the one place on the reservation she'd never been before.

Leah's flip-flops clapped on each step until she reached the top, heart stuttering once again as she thanked some merciful god that no one had seen her moving from the car to where she stood.

She wasn't ready for that - not quite yet.

Hand reaching easily for the screen door, Leah pulled it open, letting her fingers curl into a fist before she could stop them. Lifting to the wooden door behind it and leaving a swift knock on the smooth surface.

Normally, she would have listened for feet - for a sign of life inside whatever home she was walking into - but Leah was distracted, her gaze somewhere in the distance. Watching the last of the fishing boats coming in from sea, her mind drifted, remembering the stories her father used to tell her when she was a kid about the rough days on the ocean, when the waves lapped over the sides. How he used to say it did the work for them, bringing all the fish they could handle straight to the deck.

Leah caught herself smiling at the memory, missing when the door in front of her opened.

Catching her attention when a throat cleared just inches away from her.

Eyes widening, Leah's senses kicked into gear, remembering where she was. Remembering what she was waiting on, all the memories and everything else disappearing from her frenetic mind.

And for the first time that day, Leah was grateful something looked  _exactly_ the way she remembered it.

Embry leaned against the doorframe, one arm draped lazily against the wood. Releasing a heavy sigh, Leah tried to ignore how she almost took a step back, a hurricane of relief slamming into her like a brick wall. How she felt a million times lighter despite the intense, heavy warmth pushing itself through every vein in her body.

How everything inside her leapt toward the man in front of her...

Embry was trying not to smile, and Leah let her eyes unabashedly take stock of him. Noticing how his hair was wet and disheveled, like he'd just gotten out of the shower. On the white undershirt and jeans he was wearing. How he was trying like hell to keep a serious expression on his face, and how he was failing miserably, the smirk pulling at his lips and the sparkling, elated glint in those ebony eyes both a dead giveaway.

How Leah couldn't help but feel like even if this trip turned out to be the worst idea she'd ever had,  _this_ would make it worth it...

"You're here," he murmured, finally releasing the smile.

Leah nodded, reminding herself to stay where she was. Fighting the urge to close that distance between them she found herself not wanting.

"I didn't turn around," she replied matter-of-factly, unable to fight her own smile.

Taking a deep breath, Embry casually peered behind her at something unknown. "You been anywhere else?"

Shaking her head, Leah held the air in her lungs, ignoring the static in her veins when his gaze finally moved back to hers. "You were my first stop."

His smile fell into a subtle smirk. "Lucky me, huh?"

Leah missed when he moved, how she came to feel a deft hand around her wrist. Her legs moved on their own accord, and Embry was suddenly right in front of her. His scent mixed with subtle tones of citrus and musk from his soap, hitting her hard in every place she had missed it most.

Losing her breath for a split second when one arm reached around her, pushing the door closed.

Forgetting how to get it back when her body was suddenly pressed against that door, an impatient but soft mouth immediately finding hers in the darkness of the entryway.

_Thank god..._

Jesus, it felt good. It was everything she needed in that moment, the relief all the anxiety inside her craved. She couldn't help the sigh that slipped past her lips, how it was swept away by Embry's, hands clinging hard to his arms. Remembering why this - and maybe all of it - was something she could do. Why this part was worth it…

Why  _this_ was what she wanted.

Still, a part of her was left stunned and reeling as she realized something new. What that hole inside her had meant, and why in that moment, she was filled so completely.

As she realized just how much she'd missed  _him_.

Embry pulled away long before she was ready to let go, pressing his forehead against hers when she made a noise of displeasure in her throat. As he silently urged her eyes open.

She was greeted by another smile, one causing a delirious warmth to bloom somewhere deep inside her.

Unable to fight her own grin, Leah's fingernails curled into his biceps.

"Miss me?" she teased softly, biting down hard on her lower lip.

Embry's smile turned wry, and that static turned into a shiver as it laced up Leah's spine.

"Only a little," he whispered, his voice deep and tempting and everything Leah knew had the ability to force any self-control she had right back out the door she'd just walked through.

Pushing up on her tiptoes, Leah couldn't fucking help it as she squeezed her eyes shut, as she pressed her lips to his once more, inhaling deeply through her nose. Everything about the way he filled her senses calming her. Bringing her out of her own head and back to earth where she belonged.

Embry's fingers drifted just beneath the hem of her t-shirt before Leah forced herself to pull back. Silently telling herself there'd be time for everything else she desperately wanted, even as he lightly drew his nails across her flesh.

"Show me your place?" she spoke against his lips, raising her eyebrows in question.

Chuckling, Embry pushed out his own sigh, hesitating for a single moment before leaving one last kiss on her mouth. Loosening his hold on her, he took a step back, his hand inherently finding hers as he led her out of the short, narrow hallway.

A few steps later, light finally filled the space around them, giving Leah a chance to look around. To see the space Embry called home. Fingers curling tighter around his, she let her gaze sweep over the small one-room apartment. To see they were standing in a modest kitchen with a window over the sink that looked out on the ocean. There was a small table with three wooden chairs at the edge of the kitchen, and beyond that, Leah could see the bed pushed in the room's opposite corner, next to an old, wooden dresser and beneath another window which no doubt overlooked the marina. Despite the apartment clearly belonging to a man, Leah could tell someone had tried to decorate it with a subtle touch, to make it more warm and inviting without standing out.

"Is this it?" she said before she really thought about it, immediately regretting the words, knowing how they sounded. Remembering how Embry had told her not that long ago he was saving to buy a house, and that in the meantime, he didn't need much.

But Embry laughed anyway, releasing her hand and turning to face her, raising his palms expectantly.

"This is it," he repeated, offering her smile. "Except the bathroom, which is just on the other side of that wall." He motioned toward the wall running down the center of the room, cutting off the kitchen from what she assumed was the bathroom he was talking about. "I let Bella do some decorating after I'd lived here for about a year. It drove her nuts, but I think she did a pretty good job."

"It's…" Leah hesitated, trying to think of the right word to say to describe the apartment, "cozy."

Embry only laughed harder, shaking his head. "You don't have to sugar-coat it, Leah."

Leah's face screwed up, trying to suppress a smile. "I was trying to be nice..."

"You don't have to be," Embry admitted, taking a step back before he leaned against the kitchen counter. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he regarded her for a moment, watching Leah as she stood in the middle of his kitchen.

Leah frowned, suddenly feeling awkward. "What?"

Shaking his head, Embry's shoulders rose and fell beneath a heavy breath. "Nothing...I just still can't believe you're here."

Leah sighed. "Me neither, really," she murmured, dropping her gaze from Embry's dark, kind stare. Watching her feet move as she shuffled from the kitchen, only letting it rise when she stepped into the apartment's main room, finally in a place to see another chest of drawers in the corner opposite Embry's bed, a television resting on top of it. To see the small sofa facing it, creating a small little living room in the limited space he had. "It got a little dicey there for a second when I was driving down here," she continued.

"Where are you staying?" she heard Embry's voice behind her.

Leah took a deep breath. "I got a room down at Oceanside." The answer sounded stupid considering where she was, considering how many people she knew - how much family she had - within a square mile of where she stood and why she thought it would be necessary to stay at the reservation's only hotel.

"Leah…" She could hear it in Embry's voice, too, confirming he thought it was as ridiculous as she did.

Squaring her shoulders, Leah finally turned around to find Embry watching her carefully, brow lowered in some kind of disappointment.

"I didn't tell anyone I was coming, remember?" she questioned, raising her eyebrows at him.

" _I_  knew," he argued quietly. "You coulda stayed here…"

Letting her arms drop, Leah's thumbs caught the pockets of her linen shorts. "Yeah, because then not only would I have to explain why, after six years, I decided to come back, but I'd also have to squash rumors that I'm already shacking up with the locals."

Embry bit his lip, his frown disappearing as he held back a laugh. Letting a moment of silence pass between them, it subsided when he took a deep breath, eyeing her with curiosity as Leah braced herself for a question she could see coming a mile away.

"So what are you gonna do first?"

Wringing her fingers together nervously, Leah glanced toward the window behind Embry before looking back, lifting a deflecting eyebrow. "You mean I can't just hide out here for the next five days?"

Embry smiled sheepishly. "I think I'd be okay with that…"

Grinning, Leah looked down at the floor. "I don't know...I guess I figured I should probably go see my mom...let her know I'm here. Let her spread the word that her imaginary daughter is back...and have my phone handy in case she keels over dead when I walk through the door."

"Let's hope  _that_ doesn't happen..."

"I should probably find Seth sometime tonight, too," Leah continued, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

She could hear Embry's deep breath from where she stood. "Well, if you do, he's patrolling for another hour or so this afternoon. Jake tried to give him this week off for the wedding, but he felt bad having the rest of us take on his shifts."

"Do leeches even come around here anymore?" Leah muttered skeptically.

Embry shrugged. "You'd be surprised."

Leah rolled her eyes, smiling anyway, even though her stomach churned as her mind went back to her brother. Of all the confrontations she had ahead of her. How hard they were going to be, and how a small part of her was inwardly grateful she could put one of them off for even a couple more hours.

"Yeah...I guess that sounds like Seth."

"Jake knows you're here."

Leah gave Embry an acknowledging nod, another small part of her wishing that wasn't the case but knowing after what happened when Jacob showed up in Chicago, Embry was probably done keeping secrets from him. Even so, Leah knew it didn't matter.

She was counting on Jacob to make it through the next several days. To hold up his end of the bargain. To hopefully make this a little  _easier_. To be an ally - another certainty - when almost everything else at that point was still very much the opposite.

"I figured as much," Leah finally replied.

"Your mom and Grace's family planned a huge cookout and bonfire Friday night, too...before the wedding. Everyone is gonna be there…" Embry's words drifted off, letting them settle as Leah took in each one.

_Everyone…_

She knew what he meant by it. One word that said entirely more than it should have.

Remembering how she'd turned a little too early before she reached La Push - how she added a few extra minutes to the trip so she could miss one house in particular.

"We'll see," Leah responded quietly, ignoring the sudden heaviness in her chest.

"There'll be a lot of people there, Leah...people you know. A lot of friends," Embry tried to reassure her, the muscles in his arms flexing as his grip tightened around the edge of the kitchen counter. "I'll be there…"

Leah smiled, but she didn't feel as reassured about it as Embry probably wanted her to, not when she remembered what else she had to say. Something she'd thought about long before she left Chicago and several times on the drive from Seattle to La Push.

"Yeah, but...I don't want anyone to know what's happening," she murmured, taking a deep breath. "With  _us_...or what happened in Chicago."

The smile fading from his lips, Embry chewed on her request for a moment, watching her with eyes that were suddenly expressionless. Still, Leah knew him better than that. She could see beyond it, to recognize the look in his eyes as the same one he possessed the night on the sea wall during the fireworks. That a part of him wanted to push back against what she said while another one thought better of it.

Only it was stronger. More prominent, and Leah knew why - knowing he'd had three weeks to let those words sit there. As he waited to see her again.

That maybe her words weren't what he wanted to hear.

That maybe they were no longer enough...

It stole the warmth lingering in her veins since the moment he opened the door, and she could feel her mouth open, like she needed to keep talking. Feeling like she needed to explain. To make it up to him, somehow.

"I just...I think it's best right now," she stammered, still managing to stand her ground and hang onto Embry's gaze. "You know as well as I do...me being here is gonna cause enough waves as it is, especially since no one knows I'm here...and this is Seth's weekend. I don't wanna take that away from him."

Embry took a deep breath, and she could see the subtle haze in his eyes recede, replaced with a reluctant understanding. Knowing that even though Leah was perfectly aware of how it sounded, he knew where she was coming from and also knew she was right.

Still, it didn't quite mask the disappointment on his face as he looked away, his gaze dropping the floor.

"I know," he murmured.

Leah took a step forward, for whatever reason wanting to close that distance separating them. Suddenly feeling entirely too far away.

"I still want to see you though," she whispered, "and spend time with you...while I'm here."

A small smile pulled at the corner of Embry's mouth, but he still didn't look up.

"So that's why you're staying at Oceanside?"

Rolling her eyes again, Leah smiled, feeling a slight wave of relief when she looked his way. When she saw Embry finally peer back at her, one skeptical brow arched high above his eye.

"Well, then it's a good thing I probably still know all the trails from the hotel to here, huh?"

Embry shook his head, finally pushing himself off the counter, finally smiling. His gaze locking with hers when he moved, crossing the space separating them. Leah froze, watching raptly until he reached her. Losing her breath all over again when he wrapped his arms tightly around her body. As she closed her eyes, pressing her cheek to his chest, savoring the way his warm breath felt when it pushed through her hair.

"I'm just so fucking happy you're here," he whispered.

Leah kept her eyes closed, breathing in the scent enveloping her. Drowning in the heat surrounding her body, by how tightly Embry held her to him. Everything from before coming back. The safety, the belonging. How different and  _good_ it felt.

How ridiculously thankful she was for a patience and understanding she didn't fucking deserve...

Still, it made her forget for a single moment everything she had left to face, allowing her to surrender to a moment she wasn't sure she wanted to give up.

Helping her murmur words against the thin cotton beneath her cheek, holding more truth in that second than she could have thought possible.

"Me, too."

* * *

Leah didn't want to leave Embry's place.

She didn't want to, but eventually, she did. She  _had_ to.

Less than an hour later, she was back in the crappy rental car, driving slower than was probably legal toward a house on the edge of the reservation. One tucked away from the road, backed up to the hills, shielded by a thick, protective wall of trees.

The house she grew up in.

She put it off as long as she could, sliding into a chair at Embry's kitchen table. Asking for a cup of coffee beneath the pretense she created of needing to wake up from her drive. Sipping it slowly even as he watched her from the next chair, giving her a look that pretty much confirmed he knew exactly what she was doing.

But when Embry reached across the table, fingers spreading over hers and giving them a reassuring squeeze, she knew her time was up.

"I have to go meet Paul for the next shift."

When she looked up from the ceramic mug in her free hand, she could see the conflict in Embry's eyes. The same expression she'd seen when they stood in the hallway outside his hotel room, when she was facing Jacob for the first time in years.

She already knew what he was going to ask, because that's what he usually did.

"Do you want me to go with you? Pretty sure Paul can handle it if you do..."

But Leah shook her head, the same way  _she_ usually did.

"No, it's fine...I'll be fine."

She kept trying to prolong it, dragging out the kisses Embry gave her before he left, hanging on a little longer than she probably should have.

But eventually, he was out the door and she was behind the wheel of the rental car. It took her nearly ten minutes but eventually, she started the engine, slipped it into drive, and found herself on the road she needed to be on. Driving toward a house she wasn't sure would feel like the home she remembered.

But like everything else, it was exactly that.

It was easy to see when Leah pulled into the driveway - the same flowers planted under the front windows. The same red curtains in them, and the same chipping paint near the roof, except it was worse than she remembered, revealing more of the aged wood beneath the white facade.

Leah stretched her fingers over the steering wheel, silently swearing at herself, none of it doing any good to stop the tremors rolling off her hands. No matter how many times she tried to swallow it back, the knot in her throat refused to disappear.

_Remembering the last time she was here..._

Holding her breath in burning lungs, Leah pulled the car behind the tan and brown truck she'd know anywhere. It had been her father's truck, and while she didn't know if it still ran, the fact it was still there did something inside her. Comforted her, helping her to remember a little piece of the life she once loved - the one she had  _before_ everything turned upside down.

Like a lot of things, Leah didn't think about it a lot - she tried not to. It had been so long, but a part of her couldn't help but wonder how different things might have been if her father didn't have his heart attack. The one before she first phased, the grief and frustration from it the exact thing that spawned the drastic change in her life - that altered it irreparably.

Because sometimes, she did wonder - what might have happened if he was around when everything fell apart. Leah had always been her mother's daughter, and with her, it was fire fighting fire. Her father, however, always had a way of talking Leah down, and she couldn't help but wonder it he would've talked her down from this. If he would've brought her back from that metaphorical edge sooner, or if he would've eventually told her mother to hell with keeping secrets.

Shaking her head, Leah closed her eyes for a second, knowing it wouldn't do any good. She missed her dad like hell, but wondering  _what if_  wouldn't make a difference. It wouldn't help her through this. It wouldn't magically make things alright.

That was Leah's job, and there was no one that could do it for her.

Taking a deep breath, Leah leaned forward, turning the key in the ignition and shutting off the car. Clasping the keys tightly in her hand, she climbed from the vehicle, lingering for a moment as she let her eyes do one last sweep over the house in front of her. Doing her best to tuck away the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, knowing if she was going to do this, she had to hold herself together. She had to plant her feet firmly on the ground and get through it.

Leah made it to the porch, hesitating again when she finally reached the door. Spending entirely too many moments deciding whether she should knock or simply go in, not entirely sure how it would be received if she just barged into a house she hadn't set foot inside in nearly six years…

Releasing a barely audible groan, Leah brought one hand up, rubbing her face but doing little to take the frustration with it. Still, when she let her hand drop, it fell to the door handle. Drawing in a deep breath, she eventually decided to turn it, telling herself no matter how long it had been, it had still been her home once.

And there was very little chance her mother actually ever learned how to use the shotgun her father had kept above the fireplace…

When the door knob stuck, Leah groaned louder, realizing it was locked.

With an agitated huff, Leah took a step back, her gaze falling instinctively to the right. Finding the potted geranium sitting a foot or so away from the door.

Wondering…

Crouching down, Leah reached out, lifting the pot. Releasing a sigh of relief the same moment, her fingers plucked up the spare key resting beneath it.

_Nothing's changed..._

After unlocking the door, Leah put the key back where she found it, grateful when the door gave way easily that time. When it opened and allowed her to peek into the house in which she'd spent the first twenty-one years of her life.

Stepping through the door, Leah closed it behind her, allowing her body to lean back against the cool wood. Every single one of her senses took in what was inside, especially the smothering silence filling her ears, confirming no one was home. Drawing in a breath, she could smell subtle hints of cinnamon and nutmeg from the last time her mother baked, mingling with the scent of yeast from the bread she made every Sunday. Glancing to her left, she could see the living room, which looked exactly as she remembered it with the exception of a new recliner. A sight that tugged at something inside Leah when she realized it had replaced the old, brown one with the wide arms used by her father. The one they both used to sit in when she was small and would climb up in his lap for stories every night before she went to bed.

Leah's breath caught in her throat, and she struggled to inhale. Closing her eyes, she held it for a moment, taming the simmer inside her until the tightness eased. Until she once again pulled air into her lungs.

Finally finding her feet, Leah moved, walking tentatively into the kitchen. One appraisal of the room and Leah could already tell it was still the most lived in room of the house. Dirty dishes were stacked in the sink, and Leah could see an assortment of unused casserole dishes waiting next to the stove. Glancing down, she drew her fingers over the kitchen table's surface, one more look revealing at least half the cards from her mother's recipe box pulled out and strewn messily over the table.

Leah smiled in spite of the anxiety still lingering in her veins, realizing she was probably seeing the evidence of a night spent planning meals for a wedding that was only three days away.

Taking a deep breath, Leah turned away from the table, approaching the sink. When she got there, she meant to reach for a glass. She meant to get a drink of water, but when her hands curled around the edge of the sink, she closed her eyes.

Allowing herself one second too long...

A flash of crippling remorse flaring as her brain suddenly remembered the last time she'd stood in that spot...

Fuck, it was all there. She could feel it, exacerbated by where her feet rested. Where her hands lay, and what she'd felt the last time they were there.

_Her rain-soaked hair dripping from the ends, each drop rolling down her shoulders. Every ounce of hatred she felt for where she stood, what happened, what she did. She could hear someone moving behind her, refusing to leave. She could hear Embry's shallow, concerned breaths…_

_Embry…_

Leah opened her eyes, shaking her head. Holding onto the edge of the sink for dear life.

_Focus…_

She could fucking do this.

_Just focus…_

_Focus on now. Focus on_ this _._

Trembling fingers reached toward the cupboard next to the sink, retrieving a glass while the other hand turned on the kitchen faucet. Leah took deep breath after deep breath, filling the glass and bringing it to her lips, the drink doing something to the simmering inside her. Cooling it. Calming her with every swallow, allowing her to focus on something else. Distracting her.

Making her miss other things…

Yet somehow, as she lowered the glass to the sink, Leah still heard it - the sound of the back door opening and closing. The sound of shopping bags colliding, stiff plastic making more noise than Leah needed to realize someone was there. The sound of a jingling set of keys moving down the hallway.

Of footsteps approaching the kitchen.

Of them stopping in the doorway.

Leah closed her eyes one last time, the moment she heard a sharp, surprised intake of breath. The moment she heard a steady heartbeat falter, just before it started to race.

Taking one last breath, Leah slowly placed the glass on the counter. Drawing on every ounce of strength inside her, every bit of it needed to turn around.

Helping her to finally see wide eyes - ones identical to hers - staring back at her in disbelief.

Leah didn't move, and neither did her mother. Reminding herself to breathe, Leah let her eyes sweep quickly over Sue's frozen frame, whose lips parted in stunned shock - accenting a fierce, beautiful face Leah hadn't seen in as long as she'd been away. Noticing how it had aged a little - how the frown lines were a little deeper, how the crow's feet around her eyes were a little more pronounced. Even from where she stood, Leah could see the strands of grey laced through her mother's long, raven hair, flowing loose down her back.

Several long, silent moments passed, and Leah looked away first. Just for a moment before glancing back up, trying like hell to offer her mother a smile.

"Hey, Mom," she whispered.

Her mother didn't move. For a second, she just stood there, giving Leah nothing but a blink - like she was still processing what was in front of her. Like she was still trying to believe it. Leah wrung her fingers together anxiously, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, completely at a loss for what to say. What she could do to make her mother speak. To make her mother  _move_.

But she didn't have to.

Leah's heart stilled in her chest when Sue finally shifted, looking away for the briefest of moments, long enough to deposit her shopping bags and purse on the table. Before she looked back, everything in her eyes still reeling.

Her mother finally took a step forward, followed by another, and Leah had to remind  _herself_ not to move. To stay where she was.

Sue crossed the space between them in a few more steps, liquid eyes sweeping over her daughter's stoic, apprehensive frame. As she blinked rapidly, lips still parted with unspoken words, her head shaking slightly...all products of her disbelief.

Finally, she said something. Finally, Leah was able to breathe.

"Leah…"

Closing her eyes, Leah could feel her mother take another step - could smell the rich scent of cinnamon, ginger, and vanilla reaching out. Wrapping around Leah's insides and tugging, overpowering her. Knowing when her mother finally lifted her arms from her sides, reaching up. Stealing what little air Leah had in her lungs when her hands finally found her daughter's face. Brushing it gently with strong, worn fingers, prompting Leah to open her eyes.

To see the way her mother was watching her. To see the tender look in her eyes. How for just a moment, Leah could see all the forgiveness she needed in them.

How she thought maybe showing up would be all she needed to do...

But her mother blinked, and in the same moment, it was gone. Replaced by the firmness Leah told herself to expect. Nearly overshadowed by a glint of stubborn fire, letting Leah know this was far from over.

After all, she was her mother's daughter.

A nearly-silent noise left Sue's throat as she let her hands fall, as she took a step back, her jaw tightening when she finally pressed her lips together. Buying a moment to think of something to say.

"You didn't call to tell us you were coming…"

Leah's stomach wrenched as she heard the same detachment in her mother's voice that she always did, the same caution in her words. Treading carefully, even though Leah knew it was all she'd inadvertently programmed her mother to do.

Finally releasing a breath, Leah rocked back, her body leaning against the sink. Swallowing thickly before she answered.

"I didn't know if I  _was_  coming." Speaking the words and knowing there was a shred of truth and dishonesty in each one.

Blinking frantically, Sue shook her head once, almost like she was trying to clear it. Before she looked away, turning her back on Leah and approaching the kitchen table. Going about her business despite what was happening in front of her.

Leah tried to ignore how much it gutted her to watch - to  _accept_. How it made her feel like a stranger in her mother's house.

How it made her feel unwelcome.

"You should have told me," her mother murmured gruffly, reaching her hands into one of the plastic bags. Pulling her groceries out and onto the table as she spoke. "I don't have your bedroom ready. You should have given me a little more notice…"

"It's fine, Mom," Leah interrupted, crossing her arms tightly in front of her chest. "I got a room down at Oceanside."

Her mother stopped what she was doing, throwing a startled glance over her shoulder. "You're staying at a hotel?"

Leah nodded. "I just...didn't want to be in the way of everything this weekend."

Sue continued to gape at her, and Leah glanced away first. Only knowing her mother did when she heard the continued noises from unpacking groceries.

"You still should have let us know you were coming," her mother pressed. "There's just...so much going on this weekend, and we could have made arrangements. We could have planned around it if we knew, but…"

"Mom," Leah ground out from between clenched teeth, her fingernails digging into the flesh of her forearms. Staring at a stained spot on the hardwood floor beneath her. Hearing - or imagining - the hidden meaning behind her mother's words. "It's  _fine_...I don't  _need_ arrangements. I'm... _here_."

Leah heard her mother's breath catch - could see her hand pause, clasping a bag of frozen vegetables between trembling fingers.

"Does your brother know you're here?"

Sue asked the question softly - steadily - as Leah stared forlorn holes through her back. Trying to ignore how each distant question fucking twisted the knife just a little bit more. Trying to shake the distinct feeling that her mother wasn't going to let her off the hook with a couple tears and a warm hug.

That she planned on punishing Leah for a little while…

And Leah couldn't help but give the back of her mother's head an ironic smile, knowing if the roles were reversed, she would have done the same fucking thing.

"No...not yet."

Her mother nodded, once again going back to the groceries. Loading her arms up with boxes before turning, allowing her gaze to find her daughter's for a single moment. "You should find him," she replied. "Sooner, rather than later...and you should meet Grace. She has something for you, too...something to ask you, more than likely."

Leah watched her mother open the cupboard door above the stove, robotically stacking the boxes. Still refusing to look at her, refusing to speak beyond the barest of statements. Refusing to even though Leah knew there were a million questions hiding just inside her mother's mouth, waiting to be asked. Waiting for answers.

And this was one of those times where Leah just wanted the fucking words, so she could talk to her mother. So she could tell her what happened. What she'd been through. How she came to be standing in her kitchen.

How she ended up back in La Push.

Leah wanted the words, but she also knew she wasn't going to get them.

"So is this how it's gonna be?"

Her mother stopped, arm suspended from the cupboard, fingers still gripping the cardboard box. Tipping her head, Sue stared at the stove for several long, agonizing moments, simply taking in Leah's question. Contemplating it, and figuring out the best way to respond.

When Sue finally sighed, Leah held her breath. Waiting for it. Bracing herself for at least one thing she knew deep down, her mother wanted to get out.

"I don't know what you want me to say to you, Leah," Sue responded, her voice a controlled whisper. "You didn't tell me you were coming. You let us think you  _weren't_ coming, so imagine my surprise when I come home to find you standing in my kitchen." Her mother finally dropped her arm, turning to face Leah, a defeated expression pulling at her tired features. "Like you never even left...or like the last six years didn't happen."

Leah's lips parted, the vicious tightening in her chest only getting worse. Her arms only curling farther around herself. Her gaze lowering, unable to look her mother in the eye. Realizing it was the first time in six years she  _had_ to, finally understanding why it was something she'd put off.

The distance - the  _disappointment_ \- in her mother's darkened stare turned her blood ice-cold.

Even if Leah knew she was the one most responsible for putting it there.

"Mom, I…"

Sue's labored sigh interrupted her, the noise thick with a hurt Leah could never hear over the phone. Giving birth to that same fucking burning in the corners of Leah's eyes, reminding her of why she'd prepared for this anyway.

Why she told herself every fucking step in this direction was going to be the hardest of her life.

"I'm only gonna be here for a few more minutes," her mother whispered, looking away. "I'm supposed to meet Joy Ateara down at the Rec Center so we can get started on decorating for the reception." Reaching up, she closed the cupboard door, letting her fingers rest on the handle for a long moment. "Find your brother. Go see him, and meet your future sister-in-law. We'll talk later…"

Blinking the residual moisture from her eyes, Leah toed anxiously at the floor with her shoe - nodding wildly even after her mother looked away. Trying to ignore how that crippling emptiness was back, sitting square in the middle of her chest, taking with it something else.

The part of her where Leah hoped her mother would know she'd done this with good intentions and for the right reason. That she would give her a chance to talk - to  _explain_.

But Leah could see it too clearly - that this wouldn't be the chance she wanted. Holding herself together as she stood there, reminding herself - even as she could feel the hope she'd somehow managed to hang onto dissipating beneath it all - that she could try again later. That she could take another step. That there'd maybe be another time.

Even if it was painfully obvious this time was not it.

* * *

Leah remembered a time when listening to the ocean - letting herself succumb to the steady push and pull of the waves - used to lull her to sleep.

Nothing had ever replaced the way the sea soothed her, knowing it worked better than anything else on restless nights where her mind ran wild and her thoughts refused to shut off.

This wasn't one of those nights.

Every window in her small, musty hotel room was open, letting in the thick, salty smell of sea. Allowing the sound of crashing waves to drift up from the shore a few dozen feet away. The light breeze from the south pushing the curtains back from the sill, swirling the scent of pine and moss through the dark, damp air.

It didn't matter - it didn't  _soothe_ her, because no matter how many breaths she took, Leah still felt cold. Empty. Defeated.

A fraction of the way she used to feel - all the fucking time - but still enough to make her remember just how painful it was.

Laying in the darkness, Leah's eyes fixed on a small crack in the ceiling. Focusing on it, wishing like hell that just this once, all the twisted parts  _still_ inside her would let her find solace in a moment like this and just fucking rest.

Still, she knew better. She'd wanted everything with her mother to go differently, not realizing how much until it was all over. Until she left the house and drove back to the hotel in a daze, the cold detachment in her mother's eyes still burned into every edge of her mind. How she could see it every time she closed her eyes.

Leah could only imagine what it would have done to her a month earlier. What it would have caused her to do.

Still, she couldn't ignore the distant, nagging feeling of worthlessness buried deep inside her.

Knowing this was bad enough...

Leah already hated herself for a lot of things that day, including the fact she knew better than to push it - to push herself with all that uncertainty simmering just below her surface.

She didn't try to find Seth...because Leah wasn't sure if she could handle another confrontation like the one with her mother, one filled with a reluctance she told herself to expect but hadn't prepared for. Not really.

And she couldn't do it again. Not yet. Not tonight.

She needed a night.

One fucking night to herself. To really let it sink in where she was. To get her shit together.

_She'd try again tomorrow..._

Embry had called her a little past 9:30, once his patrol shift was over. By that point, her mood was foul, and even though she tried to ignore how the sound of his voice nearly swept it all away - how she took what felt like her first breath in hours when she picked up the phone - it wasn't quite enough to make her change her mind. To make her want to talk about it.

To make it better...

During their brief conversation, Leah was almost surprised when Embry avoided the huge elephant in the room, somehow refraining from asking about the visit to her mother's. Inwardly, she was  _grateful_ , another part of her not wanting to tell him anyway. Not wanting to admit to him how poorly it went.

Knowing it would just remind her that she'd pretty much fallen flat on her fucking face.

Before Embry said goodbye - after asking if she was staying at the hotel that night - Leah's fingers curled tighter around her phone. Taking entirely too long to answer, that feeling from earlier in the conversation coming back. Reminding her that no matter how bad of a mood she was in, no matter how defeated she felt, he wasn't that far away...

That he was  _there_...

Still, Leah swallowed thickly before telling him she planned to stay put and go to bed early - that she was tired from the flight and drive. Silently remembering she'd had three weeks of nights to herself leading up to this one - that she'd get through it. That she'd be herself - that by the next day, she'd be better all on her own.

It was two a.m. when she changed her mind.

She changed it when the cold suddenly became too much. When she couldn't stop wondering why she was lying there in the dark, feeling empty and angry. Remembering her mother's eyes - remembering her words and trying to remember why she'd agreed to all this anyway - with nothing but the crickets and the ocean to keep her company.

It seemed pointless, when only a few hundred yards away…

Knowing she  _didn't_ have to do this alone…

Not if she didn't want to.

Pushing back the covers, chill bumps inexplicably erupted across Leah's flesh as she slipped a pair of shorts over her hips, not bothering to change the strappy, threadbare tank top she chose to sleep in. In one swift movement, she swiped her carry-on bag from the floor, rifling through its contents for a single second - making sure it still had a change of clothes and everything else she needed in it.

No one saw her slip quietly from the room, the waves her only witness as she stole off behind the resort, the darkness protecting her from any person who might have been able to see. Knowing the trees she strode purposefully between would likely be the only thing that would.

Still, a couple minutes later, Leah looked both ways as she emerged from the brush. Sucking in a lungful of heavy night air, trying to soothe her pounding heart as she jogged across the road.

The lights from the marina docks in the not-so-far distance reminding her - even if she already knew - she was going the right way.

Remembering where the wooden stairs squeaked when she ascended them, Leah held her breath when she reached the top. As impatient fingers reached for a door knob, hoping…

Because this time, she had no idea where a spare key was hidden.

Leah let a grateful breath escape her lungs as the door gave way easily beneath her weight, inwardly thankful for at least one thing in that moment.

For the fact he was like most people on the reservation.

For the fact he left the door unlocked.

Stepping silently into the entryway of the small apartment, Leah quietly closed the door behind her. Blind fingers somehow managed to find the lock as she turned it slowly, the click piercing the thick silence.

Leah took a step into the dark kitchen, still able to see everything as she moved. She knew why she was there. She could feel it lifting, all of it - the confrontation with her mother, the memory of it crashing around inside her head, the sick feeling of defeat - retreating somewhere inside her for another time.

Giving her a chance to finally breathe. To refocus on the good and find her strength, to gather the courage to try again later. To face another day.

Leah stepped easily around the table, her eyes finally able to make out Embry's sleeping form. Moonlight poured through the windows above the bed, washing over the quilt so Leah could see it rise and fall with his breaths. So she could see how his back faced her.

Watching the steady movement from beneath the covers, Leah's footsteps fell short. She drew a deep, silent breath between parted lips. Stepping out of her shoes, she lifted her hands, feeling trembling fingers grasp the hem of her shirt. Closing her eyes as she pulled it from her body in one swift movement, letting it fall to the floor beside her. Hands grazed over her breasts, the smooth plane of her stomach, before reaching the button on her shorts. Before she slipped it through the opening holding it in place, bending at the waist as she pushed the garment from her body. Feeling the cool night air on her flesh when she straightened, the damp breeze pushing through the open window. Feeling it on every inch of her skin.

Leah hadn't missed much, but she'd missed that. She hadn't realized it until then. She  _missed_ how it smelled. How it felt against her naked body.

Taking a deep breath, Leah held it when she leaned forward, pulling back the covers. When she slipped silently beneath them, pulling the warm blanket around her legs as she inched closer. When she reached out, propping herself up on one elbow, hand curling gently around Embry's shoulder. Pulling just hard enough for a rough breath to slip past Embry's lips when he stirred.

Leah waited, patiently, as he turned the rest of the way. As sleep-filled eyes landed on hers, taking a moment to focus in the darkness. Leah pulled in a deep, ragged breath, her gaze lowering when Embry eventually reached up, one hand gently cupping her cheek.

"Hey," he whispered, his voice still hoarse from sleep. "You okay?"

She nodded, finally peering up and meeting Embry's eyes a moment before they lowered, as he let his hand drop, fingers tracing her jaw. Traveling down the length of her neck and across a bare shoulder, tracing her arm until he finally turned on his side, his arm wrapping around her waist. Pulling her closer to the warmth she craved.

Smiling…

His eyes light despite the darkness. Carrying a tangible gratitude and a warmth she hadn't seen since she left earlier that day.

Despite it all, Leah closed her own. Leaning down, she brushed his shoulder with delicate fingers, pressing her forehead against his.

"I'm better here," she whispered, her voice thick with a vulnerability she rarely ever showed.

Feeling Embry's warm, uneven breaths against her lips, Leah held the air inside her - waiting, for what she wasn't entirely sure.

But she knew when Embry pulled away just slightly. When he was back a moment later, his breath again washing over her lips. Replaced by a soft, gentle mouth when it hesitantly covered hers.

Leah took a moment, breathing it in, tasting the sweetness of Embry's lips before she reached up, wrapping one arm around his neck. Pushing back, deepening the kiss, both his need and hers intensifying - escalating - the moment she did.

She pulled one last time. Embry shifted beside her, and Leah relaxed into the bed - her head sinking into the pillows - wrapping her arms around the body now hovering above her, pressing hers gently into the mattress.

Getting rid of that last little bit of cold.

Because no matter how much Leah missed it, she didn't want the cold, not right now. She wanted heat. She wanted large hands to sweep it away, to massage the warmth into her skin. To feel it from the inside out. To remind her  _why_  it was better. Here...

In his arms.

How the emptiness she'd felt since leaving her mother's wasn't a permanent thing.

That it was something she didn't  _need_ to feel, if she didn't want it.

That it was something she could still overcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Soooooooo….what's everyone think now that we're back in La Push? *Grins*
> 
> Also, don't be too hard on Leah's mom. Think about everything you know at this point - and how tough Leah made it for her family - and just know Leah still has a good chunk of time left there. ;)
> 
> Can't wait to hear your thoughts!


	20. Friends

_**Suggested Listening: “Promise” by Ben Howard, “Dead & Born & Grown” by The Staves, “Prairie Girl” by Rah Rah, “A Perfect World” by Kodaline, “A Little Death” by The Neighbourhood, “Yet Again” by Grizzly Bear** _

 

Leaning against the counter in his small kitchen, Embry tightly clutched a cup of coffee between large hands.

His eyes were on his bed, even as he blew on the hot liquid, cooling it before it swept over his tongue. The sun was barely up, but there was enough light in the room for him to see it. To watch the person sleeping in it. She lay on her side facing him, the sheet pulled up to her waist. His eyes swept across every inch of bare flesh, her hair spilling across the cream-colored pillowcase and over her shoulder, ending just above her breasts. Her chest lifted and fell with every short, even breath.

Every second he watched made it that much harder to breathe.

In the best possible way.

It made him feel like some kind of voyeur - just standing there watching - but he couldn’t not watch. He couldn’t not take all this in...to soak it up. To catalog the image of Leah and every beautiful piece of her asleep in his bed.

Because she was home. She was home and she had come to him, kissing him like they hadn’t missed a single day. Yet every bit of purpose behind each kiss confirmed she’d missed him every single second since he’d left.

He knew what that felt like...all too well, because now that she was here, Embry realized he hadn’t truly taken a breath since he stepped on that plane. That he hadn’t felt the respite of air in his lungs until she showed up outside his door.

It had been a long three weeks, to say the very least.

He knew it would be as soon as his plane left the runway, his eyes fixed on the city below him. Hanging onto it, Embry’s heart pounded as the plane climbed higher and the buildings slipped away, giving way to empty fields and flat terrain. It took him away without all the words he needed, and without the certainty that maybe Leah felt as strongly as he did. Without a reassurance he could really hang onto, knowing no matter how badly he wanted it, there was no way in hell Leah would have given it to him.

But she had given him one thing - the thing he asked for. The only thing he knew was possible and that she was capable of in that moment.

She told him she’d come home.

Embry never doubted her. He worried at times, waiting for the uncertainty and doubt to resurface every time he talked with her on the phone. Preparing to soothe those fears, a part of him already knew he probably wouldn’t have to. He knew it was time for Leah to take that step and so did she, and not once did he think she wouldn't actually show up.

Instead, he ended up reassuring himself more - that Leah coming home for a visit would be enough. For what, he wasn’t sure. To help her remember. To see for herself she was neither unneeded or unwanted. To heal those wounds she’d always left open.

That maybe, if things went the way he hoped, it would be enough for them.

That, at the very least, it would convince her to keep coming back. That it wouldn’t be another six years before he saw her again.

Because Embry knew...three weeks were going to be bad enough. He knew it the moment the plane touched down in Seattle, a part deep inside him burning - scratching, protesting - painfully aware of the distance. Knowing full well what he’d left behind…

Every single part of him already missing it. Needing it.

Embry didn’t have time to think too much about it. Shuffling out of the plane, he walked through the airport in a daze. Collecting his luggage at the baggage claim, he knew no matter how he felt, there was work to be done and life wasn’t going to stop without him.

Yet it was still on his mind, even when he found Brady outside the airport. It was still stuck smack in the middle of his chest, leaving him unable to form much for words even when the younger man rambled endlessly about things Embry couldn’t bring himself to care about.

At least not until Brady made a noise in his throat, pulling Embry out of his own thoughts. He threw a skeptical glance across the truck’s cab to find Brady already watching him.

“What did you say?” Embry asked.

“I said, I can tell you had a good time in Chicago…” Brady repeated, one eyebrow lifting knowingly.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Embry muttered, giving the other man a venomous frown.

“Dude, you reek of sex,” Brady chuckled, unfazed by Embry’s reaction as he shook his head in dismay. “And believe it when I say that’s a smell I know a thing or two about. Don’t worry, though...I won’t tell Jake that’s what you did while you were pretending to work out there for two weeks.”

Embry rolled his eyes. Driving or not, he fought the urge to punch Brady right in his smart fucking mouth. Inside, though, Embry’s stomach still wrenched viciously. Feeling the panic crawl up his throat, Embry chided himself for not thinking about it sooner. He knew full well what happened between them wasn’t going to be something Leah wanted broadcast to the whole world. At least not at that point.

Another part of Embry was thankful the younger wolf wouldn’t recognize the scent on him, because he had yet to phase when Leah was there.

When Embry finally made it back to La Push, the first thing he did was head to the woods. He ran, needing it anyway - needing to phase and needing that release. Shielding himself beneath the cover of the trees, Embry was thankful for the silence and the fresh air, thick with scents that would wash away the ones still lingering on his body.

At one point though, he almost stumbled - a part of him fighting the sudden urge to phase back. To keep it there.

To hang onto any trace of her while he still could, knowing it might help him get through the days to come.

He could have used it.

Even though Embry threw himself into work, catching up at the La Push garage and helping Jake with the beginning stages of the the new one, that scratching was still there. Growing worse with each passing day, the wolf inside him making the human need worse. It made him edgy and anxious, reminding Embry of what he was being denied - of what he craved and what he wanted, even if it wasn’t possible to have it.

Combining into a potent mix of emotions inside his body, it weighed him down while leaving him empty at the same time. More than once, his pounding heart woke him in the middle of the night, a cold sweat covering his clammy skin. It didn’t matter how many breaths he took or how many lines he paced into the floor. He couldn’t get rid of it - the excruciating fire inside every vein in Embry’s body.

In those moments, it was impossible to breathe. To simply function the way he was used to.

He got through it, grasping for that shred of solace buried deep within a more human part of him. There was a light at the end of the tunnel, knowing in fourteen days - in thirteen, in twelve - Leah would be there, and the scratching, empty feeling inside him would be gone.

Now that she was there, Embry had the peace he wanted.

However, what he no longer had was a guarantee of time. It was like Chicago all over again, and no matter how much he tried not to think about it, Embry had no idea how he was going to let her go now that she was here. How he could be forced back into a life without her there - every fucking day - because Leah always had and always would have a choice. She could still deny this life she’d told him so many times she no longer wanted.

She could still deny him.

And no matter what he knew - no matter what happened between them - Embry still knew it was a possibility. What happened to her all those years ago - what he was - made it more than a distant one. It made the likelihood of it tangible.

Still, he didn’t know...

How he could possibly let her walk away. What it would do to him if she did.

Still, Embry swallowed it back, knowing he couldn’t waste time on thoughts like that. Knowing what he had to do.

For now, he would just fucking hold her - keep her there - while he still could. He would let Leah face what she needed to face. He would be there when she needed him, and when the time was right, he would ask. He would tell her…

What, he wasn’t sure, but he would tell her - all the words, every feeling. All of it. He would tell her.

Anything, so long as she knew.

Embry jerked back to the present, eyes suddenly focusing on what he’d been watching before he drifted away. A smile pulling at his lips, he saw Leah’s eyes were open, staring back at him this time.

It dissolved the tightness in his chest. It calmed the fire in his veins.

Everything about the way she was looking at him reminding him of why it was better now that she was here.

“Morning,” he murmured, bringing the forgotten coffee cup to his lips and taking a sip.

Leah groaned quietly, rolling onto her back and stretching. “Were you watching me sleep?” she questioned, propping herself up on her elbows. One questioning eyebrow lifted, pulling her mouth into a smile. “That’s fucking creepy, Call.”

Embry chuckled, straightening and taking a step away from the counter. “Take a look around my apartment, Leah,” he replied crisply. “No matter where I go, so long as I’m here, I’d be watching you sleep.”

Tipping her head back lazily, she regarded him for a moment, letting her features relax. “Good point.” With a sigh, Leah sat up slowly, not bothering to cover her body as she pulled her knees up to her chest, the sheet leaving little to Embry’s imagination, even though there was little left for him to imagine.

Fuck, he needed to stop. He knew if he didn’t, work would end up waiting. That he just might take Leah up on her offer of keeping her there for the next five days.

“You working today?” she asked quietly, leaning her cheek against her knee. Embry could feel her eyes on him, soft and relentless, as he crossed the distance between them, sitting his coffee cup on the kitchen table as he passed.

Embry nodded, thinking he needed to stop where he was but not entirely surprised when his feet kept moving. “Yeah…need to do a quick perimeter run before I go in though.” He knew why in his head, but wasn’t going to tell her.

Reaching the bed, Embry turned, collapsing onto the mattress before laying back. A relaxed breath pushing over his lips, he let his head roll to one side to find Leah watching him with an amused smile on her face.

“You gonna try to talk to your mom again?”

Leah’s smile faltered slightly. Her brow scrunched beneath the question, but she didn’t look away. She’d eventually told him how the conversation with her mother went, the words coming easier under cover of darkness - with her body curled into his side, her head resting against his chest. Falling from her lips when his fingers traced gentle patterns on her back, doing what he could to take away some of the sting.

“Maybe,” she whispered, anxiously worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “I really need to find my brother first, I think.”

“You should,” Embry agreed, fixing his gaze on the ceiling and remembering something Jacob had reminded him of the night before. Something he’d almost forgotten about until that moment. “Not just because he should know you’re here, but you have plans tonight…”

Embry looked back in time to catch Leah’s skeptical eyebrow. “Plans?”

“Dinner,” he murmured, watching her tentatively and not missing how her eyes blanked slightly. How her expression froze, waiting for him to finish the request. “At Jake’s. He wants us to come over tonight.”

“Dinner at the Alpha’s,” Leah muttered, a hint of amusement laced through her words. “Welcome home, Leah.”

Embry chuckled, his hand reaching out across the comforter, finding her wrist and letting his fingers curl around it. He pulled softly, ignoring how Leah rolled her eyes in feigned dismay. Instead, a part of him warmed at how easily she gave way, moving on the bed until she was beside him, laying on her stomach. Still watching him, she was close enough he could feel her breath on his cheek.

Reaching up, Embry pushed a strand of raven hair from her face, watching Leah’s eyes follow his hand as he tucked it behind her ear. “I think he knows what this took...for you to come,” he continued. “I think he just wants to give you a night with people who know what it took for you to do it.”

Leah glanced down, studying her hands as one picked at a fingernail on the other.

“Bella’s cooking,” Embry pressed, letting his eyes settle on the curve of her shoulder, trying to take some of the pressure off her. “It’ll be worth it. You should see the stuff she cooks now that she’s pregnant. It’s all butter and cream and five courses.”

Leah finally laughed, and Embry smiled.

“My ass is thanking her already.”

Grinning, Embry found those eyes for a single moment before he peered over her shoulder to the alarm clock on the nightstand. Knowing he needed to get going if he was going to make it to work before the alpha in question.

“Tell you what,” he reasoned, looking back to Leah. Finding her still watching him. “Think about it, then swing by the shop later and let me know what you decided.”

Leah scoffed. “Now you’re pushing it…”

Embry smiled anyway, knowing he somehow had to make this easier if she was going to consider it. “It’s just gonna be me and Quil most of the day. Quil’s not gonna give you any shit, Leah...you know that. Plus, I want you to see the garage.”

Lips parting, Leah gaze faltered, settling on the bed beneath them. She took a moment, chewing on his request for several long seconds as Embry held his breath. As he waited, feeling her silken skin beneath his fingertips. As she glanced back at him, her face stoic but everything in her eyes contemplating it.

“We’ll see,” she finally said.

Embry released a deep, resigned breath, tracing the line of Leah’s jaw. Fingers curling around her neck, he pulled gently, watching Leah’s lips part as she lowered herself without a single ounce of protest. As he lifted his head from the mattress, meeting her halfway. Kissing her softly, slowly. Inhaling deeply through his nose, so he could take that scent with him.

He smiled against her mouth when she eventually pulled away. When he felt hers smile back.

Knowing it held his answer, even if she didn’t say it.

“Fair enough,” he whispered.

* * *

This easily could have been the worst idea Leah ever had.

Even if it wasn’t her idea, the masochistic notion to actually go through with it belonged entirely to her. Still, as she walked down the main street cutting through the center of the reservation - ignoring the numerous stares thrown at her along the way - she hung onto what Embry told her.

It’s just gonna be me and Quil there most of the day...

Plus, I want you to see the garage.

Embry left only minutes after he’d asked her, telling Leah to go back to sleep if she wanted - to not hurry and make herself at home. Still, once he was gone, Leah didn’t go back to sleep. Wide awake, Leah stared at the ceiling for the better part of an hour, reminding herself of all the things she needed to do that day - all the people she needed to find. Asking herself if she was really ready to do what Embry asked. If she was ready to face those people before she’d even seen her brother.

Eventually getting up, Leah shuffled around Embry’s apartment, making herself a very strong pot of coffee and drinking three cups while attempting to check emails on her phone. It was a pretty pointless task considering where she was at. When it came to cell phones, calls and text messages were about the only services available due to the limited reception. Giving up eventually, Leah took a long shower, spending entirely too much time trying to let the hot water wash away her reservations.

Trying to decide what she wanted to do…

In reality, Leah knew she was only prolonging the inevitable. No matter what order she did things in, all the confrontations on her mind would happen eventually - and it would probably be a wise idea to get them out of the way before Saturday and before the wedding.

So she sucked it up, getting dressed and giving silent thanks she’d packed a pair of jeans in her carry-on - that a part of her remembered in advance how mild the summers were on the Olympic Peninsula, and how they didn’t come with the heat and humidity she’d gotten used to living in the Midwest.

Running her fingers through her damp hair, Leah stared at her reflection in the mirror.

Telling herself, for probably the hundredth time in the twenty-four hours leading up to that moment, that she could do this.

And another part of her wanted to, one from not-so-deep down curious to actually put tangible proof to the life a majority of the men she used to call brothers built for themselves. To see with her own eyes what Embry was working toward, and what his - and the rest of the pack’s - future held.

Still, Leah pulled her phone from her pocket before she left, scrolling through the numbers until she found the one belonging to her brother. Pulling in a sharp breath, she let her fingers fly over the keys, doing what she needed to extend another olive branch. To let him know, even if he had no idea she was there, that she still wanted to talk to him.

Leah waited close to twenty minutes, each second passing without a response.

It was well past lunchtime by the time Leah left Embry’s apartment. A part of her was angry with herself for wasting so much time, while another part tried to ignore the nagging ache in her gut. Cautious eyes swept over the front steps and parking lots she passed, focusing instead on the gratitude Leah could feel when she turned the corner of the block on which the garage was located. Realizing maybe she did herself a favor by leaving when she did, because she felt a ridiculous amount of gratitude in her veins when it was clear she’d missed the noon hour - a time when many more bodies would have been on the street.

Still, it hadn’t eliminated everyone. She could feel random sets of curious eyes trained on her retreating back. Her family was well known in La Push - prominent even. Important. Generations had called the small reservation home. Her father had been on the Tribal Council until his death, and after he was gone, her mother stepped up to take his place. Her family had always been deeply rooted in the Quileute culture, its government and its history. Just as much as Jacob’s, and just as much as Quil’s. They were as recognizable in La Push as the ocean that lapped at its beaches.

Which is why Leah’s imagination ran away long before she could put a leash on it. She could only wonder what all these people she’d known her entire life must be saying about her. The questions they probably asked each other, wondering where she’d went. Why she’d stayed away so long. Judgmental eyes prying, not quite masking the rumors they’d probably made up to explain her absence, wondering what the hell this meant now that she was back.

She could have listened, had she wanted to.

But she didn’t, because Leah didn’t want to hear their stories when she needed every bit of focus she possessed on revising the only one that was true.

Black & Brothers Automotive sat by itself on its own block, a large warehouse structure just down the street and around the corner from the tribal Rec Center. Her feet suddenly leaden, Leah’s eyes swept over the modest sign hanging above the three, prominent garage doors lining the front of the building. Shifting anxiously, Leah took a deep breath, allowing her gaze to trace the faint outline of the pack crest - the same as the tattoo she wore on her right bicep - set behind the letters of the garage’s name. It appeared like it was meant to be an afterthought, but it was still prominent enough to be noticed. To be a part of what it represented.

Fuck, it did something to her insides - a pressure building in her chest, an emotion she couldn’t describe welling up in her throat. She tried swallowing it back, fingers lifting and brushing the flesh of her neck. Still, she couldn’t because it was too thick, layered with a hundred different things - pride, nostalgia, regret that she’d missed all this. That she hadn’t been there to watch them build it.

For a second - just a second - she peeked over her shoulder. Wondering if she could truly do this.

Wondering if anyone had seen her…

But something pulled her back, urging her to turn around. A strange sensation, like insects crawling across her skin - like she was being watched. Shifting slowly, Leah glanced back to the garage. Her body freezing, every ounce of blood in her body turning cold - realizing no matter how badly she may have wanted to, it was too late to turn and run. To put this off any longer.

Because she’d already been seen.

Quil Ateara wasn’t moving, but his eyes were very clearly on Leah. His stare was filled with a crippled shock, regarding her warily from his spot several feet away. His body was still half-inside a car, and Leah realized she had seen that car pull out of the garage when she’d first rounded the corner. That she hadn’t really paid attention to it when she approached the building.

Holding her breath, Leah fought the urge to look at the ground, assessing Quil instead. Battling that fucking fight-or-flight instinct inside her for everything she was worth.

At first glance, he had changed even less than Embry and Jacob when she’d first seen them. He still had a boyish immaturity to his features, topped with a mess of unruly black curls. His short, stocky build was exactly how Leah remembered it, and in that moment, the only thing she could recall was how she used to tease him about his height. How she always told him he’d definitely drawn the short stick when it came to the werewolf gene lottery. How he’d come back, telling her it was easy for her to say, considering her stick came with bigger boobs and fuller curves…

Leah blinked, the movement slow and entirely too sluggish, but doing what she needed as it cleared her head in time to see Quil move. To catch him half-stumble from the car, slamming the door behind him, his eyes never leaving hers.

Taking a deep breath, Leah willed herself to move, shoving her hands deep in her jeans pockets as Quil took his turn. As he appraised her back - brazen, wide eyes raking down her body and back up again. His head shaking in disbelief, a gesture similar to the one she received from her mother the night before.

Bracing herself when Quil’s lips parted to speak.

“Holy fucking shit…”

Closing her eyes and letting the smallest of smirks pull at her lips, knowing she should have expected that, too.

Quil took a sudden step forward, throwing his arms out in front of him, palms facing the sky in awestruck confusion. “I mean...holy shit!” Arms still outstretched, Quil took off, staggering towards her as Leah found herself wondering if it was possible for a person’s eyes to actually pop out of their skull.

Taking what felt like her hundredth deep breath, she decided to break the ice first.

“Six years, Quil, and that’s really the best you could come up with?”

Shaking his head, Quil let out a boisterous laugh that made Leah jump in surprise. Finally letting his arms fall, he wiped his greasy hands on already-soiled jeans.

“And you actually thought I’d form a coherent thought?” Quil questioned, a sloppy grin spreading across his features. “Shit, woman, I can’t do that on a regular day let alone when you decide to come back from the dead.”

Leah tried not to wince, but failed.

“But seriously…” Quil closed the last bit of distance between them, not acknowledging her expression if he noticed. Reaching out, he squeezed her shoulder - softly, like a pinch, almost like he was trying to eliminate the fact that maybe he’d caught himself in some twisted dream. “Hell musta froze over and I missed the memo because, jesus, Leah...you’re here!”

Nodding, throwing a glance toward the open garage doors. Searching for another sign of life - that maybe someone else was in there besides Quil. Someone who could come out and maybe take some of the attention off her…

“I’m here.” The words fell from her lips when she realized there was no one there. Not yet.

Quil leaned forward a bit, eyebrows arching high as he tried to capture her gaze. A ridiculously rapt expression was plastered on his face, and Leah could only imagine what gem was about to spill from his mouth.

“Shit, do you hug now?” he murmured sincerely, eyes widening again. “Can I hug you? I feel like I should hug you…”

Leah ground her teeth together. “No.”  
  
Regardless, Quil’s grin practically reached his ears. “Oh, yeah. You're really here.” Taking a wide step, he suddenly tossed one beefy arm across her shoulders, pulling her into his broad body that smelled of sweat and motor oil. A scent that, for whatever reason, Leah didn’t mind. A scent that had always been so Quil.

He tugged, taking a step that Leah not so reluctantly followed. A part of her hoped like hell Quil’s reaction was genuine - that this was what she could expect, knowing it probably was. Quil had always been straightforward. What people saw with Quil, they usually got. He didn’t hold grudges, and had always got along with anyone who crossed his path.

So Leah hung onto it instead, his reception lifting one small piece from the weight still sitting inside her.

“So where the hell’ve you been?” Quil asked, eventually letting his arm slide from her frame, allowing it to fall to his side.

Leah shrugged, knowing there wasn’t really any point anymore in keeping it a secret. “Chicago - I live there.”

Quil hesitated, his work boots dragging heavily as he shuffled across the dirt beneath their feet. “You been there the whole time?”

Leah nodded, pulling her arms into a tight hold across her chest.

“So…what did you do there?”

Reaching up, Leah tucked her hair behind her ear. “I went to college, got a job. You know, the stuff normal people are supposed to do.”

“Hey,” Quil exclaimed from beside her, nudging her shoulder with his. “I didn’t go to college, and I like to think I’m pretty kick-ass…”

Lips parting, Leah stopped walking, a part of her immediately regretting what she said. That tightness threatening to come back when she glanced at Quil apologetically, who peered back at her, a look of hurt on his face.

“Quil, that’s not what I meant…”

Eyeing her skeptically for several long moments, Quil released a breath. Waiting another second before his mouth erupted into a grin and he nudged her again, ignoring the silent sigh of relief Leah let slip from between her lips.

“Leah...I’m just fucking with you,” he assured, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Shit, life’s not really that kick-ass. I still live with my mom, so there’s that…and everything’s pretty much the same as it was when you left, except everyone’s either older or, you know…” He stopped, licking his lips awkwardly when he reached a word he wasn’t sure if he should say.

Leah swallowed. “Imprinted?”

“Yeah…” Quil anxiously brushed a large hand through his mop of curls. “Including me, but more on that another time. And there’s this…” He glanced toward the garage, dramatically motioning to it with his hand. “It pays the bills and gives me something to do. It’s pretty fucking cool actually. Jake lets me come in whenever the hell I want just so long as I get my shit gets done, so...can’t complain too much.”

Scrunching her face to hide the smile, Leah let her shoe toe at the dirt. “You haven’t changed a fucking bit, have you?”

“Hell, babe, that’s probably a good thing,” Quil chuckled, his voice honest and welcoming and everything Leah needed in that moment. “But at least you have, it sounds like...so maybe getting away from here was the good choice, huh?”

Leah forced herself to nod, a half-hearted agreement to Quil’s words as she grasped to hang onto the easy feeling inside her.

“Guess so.”

Jerking his head toward the shop, Leah followed Quil as he approached the bay closest to the what Leah guessed was the garage’s office. Stepping over a huge puddle that collected from the overnight rain, Leah tried like hell to ignore how she could still feel that nervousness still tingling in her veins,k warning her to stay alert. To keep the guards up.

Still, she was paying enough attention to hear Quil’s next question.

“So, did your mom tell you about this place and all the shit going on?”

Swallowing thickly, Leah took a moment before she decided it would be a likely story to go with. Before she nodded. “Yeah…”

“Sweet,” Quil mumbled, not even looking back as he shimmied between the garage door frame and an SUV with its back end sticking halfway out of the building. “One less thing to get you caught up on.”

Trailing him into the garage, Leah allowed her eyes to sweep over the building, following the high arch of the warehouse ceilings, the tool benches and chests lining the wall opposite the doors. Cars were lined up side by side in two of the garage’s three bays. She could hear classic rock playing from somewhere in the corner of the building, filtering through speakers she located seconds later. The entire place smelled like engine grease, motor oil, and gasoline.

And still, she looked...eyes searching for something else. For someone else, who still had yet to show his face. A part of her angry at him for still not being there, and another part not completely surprised he decided to let her do this on her own and without any kind of buffer.

Smiling to herself, Leah was grateful Embry wasn’t the smug type. If he was, god knows he would have plenty of things to be smug about.

Releasing a gruff exhale, Leah offered a smile to the back of Quil’s head as he rounded the SUV’s hood, kicking at the auto creeper peeking out from underneath the frame.

“So…” Quil said quietly, plopping down on the wooden contraption the same time Leah ventured around to his side, watching him as he peered up at her. “Are you just...back for a visit?”

Leah opened her mouth, ready to reassure him it was just a visit…

“Fuck, Q, enough with the twenty questions.”

Quil’s mouth shut with a snap, face screwing up in disappointment as his gaze redirected over Leah’s shoulder. He already saw the source of the voice long before Leah turned to confirm it, even though she knew she didn’t need to. As she did anyway, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth and biting down hard to keep an entirely different smile under wraps.

Knowing if Quil saw it, it would probably be a dead giveaway…

Carefully peering over her shoulder, Leah’s eyes landed on Embry several feet away. He was standing in the doorway of the garage’s office, leaning on the door - his body half-turned away from it, like he still hadn’t decided whether or not he was coming out. Giving her the smallest of smiles when her eyes found his, Leah could see an unmistakable glint in those ebony eyes. Like they held a thousand secrets only he knew…

Because they did.

An exhilarant wave of warmth flooded Leah’s body, all the way to her fingertips, but she still didn’t look away, even when Embry did. Not even when she heard Quil scoff behind her, like what Emby asked him was physically impossible to do.

“Really, man?” Quil exclaimed petulantly, the sound of the creeper’s wheels scratching against the concrete floor as Quil aimlessly rocked himself back and forth. “Have you gotten a good fucking look at who’s standing in the middle of this garage? I mean, like really stopped to look...and let that sink in? And I mean, all the way in.” He made a noise of disbelief in his throat. “If not, take a second and then tell me how many questions you want to ask.”

Embry rolled his eyes, and Leah fought another coy grin when his gaze landed on her. When that mischievous glint returned.

“I’ve looked, dude,” he said quietly, one eyebrow lifting. “And I see her.”

Leah pulled a breath through her clenched teeth, trying like hell to temper the warmth Embry’s simple words caused inside her. It took everything she had to pull her eyes away from him, to turn and see Quil lay back on the creeper, hands reaching up to grab the SUV’s bumper.

“Yeah, yeah,” Quil muttered. “Go say hi to that one, Lee. He’s still pretty nice, most days. Fair warning though...he’s been working on accounting shit all day ‘cause Jake made him, so he’s probably grumpy as fuck.”

“Would you like to help me, Quil? Because I have a fucking folder in here with your name on it!”

Leah's teeth cut harder into her lip, a shred of comfort fighting its way to the surface, a part of her remember what this was like. How years ago she claimed to hate the childish banter that went on between the other pack members, when they were still teenage boys and she was too old to want to deal with all the shit that came with that.

But now...she only stood there, realizing how much that deep-down part of her missed it.

"Nah, man, you go for it. You know me with all those numbers and subtraction and shit,” Quil deadpanned, reaching up and tapping his forehead aimlessly with one index finger. “Doesn't really compute in this old melon."

“No shit. All you gotta do is take a look at one of your invoices...”

Quil offered Leah a toothy grin and a shrug of his shoulders. “Poor guy still has to keep us in line...even now. Place would fall apart without him though.”

“Don’t forget it.” Leah heard the distant grumble from behind her.

That time, she smiled.

“Anyway…” Quil continued, wagging his eyebrows at her before his face softened with a sincerity Leah hadn’t seen since she got there. “I gotta finish this before five, but...glad to have you back, Leah, even if it’s only for a visit. Shit hasn’t been the same around here since you left.”

With a wink, Quil disappeared beneath the SUV.

For several long moments, Leah stared at the spot Quil had occupied moment earlier. Letting what he said fully sink, she pulled in a rough breath before she turned toward the office behind her. Embry had abandoned the doorway, and as Leah approached it, she cast a cursory glance over her shoulder - making sure Quil was still where he was supposed to be before stepping into the office.

The room was small, a line of windows covered in blinds overlooking the garage itself. Beneath the windows was an threadbare, olive green sofa, positioned directly across from the large desk. Aside from the computer resting in the corner, the desk was littered with papers and folders.

Embry stood behind it, leaning heavily on his hands. Closing the door behind her, Leah tried to ignore the way he smiled at her when the latch clicked loudly into place.

Feeling a million times lighter, Leah leaned back against the door, closing her eyes on the bright fluorescent lighting illuminating the room. “So, that was easy…”

Embry chuckled, the sound pulling her eyes open as he peered down at the mess on the desk. “I told you,” he assured quietly, sweeping his hand over several papers, trying to contain them into something that somewhat resembled an organized pile. “Most of us just missed you...and wanted to know where you were. That’s it.”

Leah gave him an appeased nod, even though she knew there would be more to it than that. Quil was only one in a long line of people she had yet to see. She wasn’t diluted enough to believe the worst had passed.

“It’s Quil though,” she murmured. “I figured he wouldn’t be too hard to convince.”

“Well,” Embry replied quietly, depositing the papers into a folder before closing it. “You might get some shit from a couple of them, like Paul...because time hasn’t done much for the guy’s attitude.”

Leah rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she remembered how her and Paul never really got along that well in the first place. They were too much alike in some of the worst kinds of ways - both stubborn, hot-headed, and too quick to speak - always shooting first, asking questions later.

Leah sighed. “I can handle him.”

Embry peered up at her from beneath raised eyebrows. “I know you can.”

Rolling her head to one side, Leah watched Embry as he dropped his gaze, letting it linger on the desk and everything covering it.

“So, that doesn’t look too promising…”

Embry scoffed, shaking his head at nothing in particular. “You shoulda seen it when I came back. I swear they didn’t do a fucking thing while I was gone.” He motioned to the disheveled desk. “I’m still getting caught up.”

Leah grinned, amused at the way he stared down the desk, at how his fingers curled around one of the folders. Howfor just a second, she half-expected him to throw it in the air in some kind of jilted protest.

“Maybe it’s time to teach Paul and Quil about this little thing called a calculator…”

“Shit, that’ll be the day,” Embry laughed, taking a step back from the desk. His eyes finding hers again as he moved around it, forgetting about the mess entirely as he slowly approached Leah. He stared her down this time, and her breathing picked up discreetly with every step he took.

“And considering I won’t be around here soon,” he murmured, coming close enough that his scent tingled inside Leah’s nostrils, “we’ve actually been talking about hiring another part-time person just to come in and handle the books and accounts.”

Leah could feel the cool wood of the door pressing against the back of her thighs, despite the fact everything else inside urged her forward. Away from the door. Toward the man in front of her. The one who was suddenly there, peering down at her.

Feeling his hands graze the outline of her hips, drifting over the pockets of her jeans, she forgot about it for a second. Remembered instead the heavy weight of her still-silent phone resting there.

“I sent Seth a message,” she offered, changing the subject. Wishing like hell she would have just stayed on the one involving the shop’s potential new employee. Or just focused on that fucking look Embry was giving her as he closed the distance between them...

Embry released a breath, stopping where he was. Leaving a few inches of space between them that Leah really didn’t want there.

He lifted one eyebrow. “And?”

Leah’s gaze shifted, falling on the bookshelf in the far corner of the room. Lips pressing into a thin, resigned line, she looked anywhere but the eyes watching her. Hands instinctively landing on Embry’s chest, she tried to smile, knowing she probably was doing a horrible job at making the gesture convincing.

“I haven’t heard anything back,” she replied, the response nearly getting stuck in her throat.

She looked back in time to see Embry nod, his smile fading a little but the gentleness still thick in his eyes. It was a different look from moments earlier, but it was one that still pulled at something inside Leah, knowing it was one she’d seen before. Knowing that even if the reality of her silent phone weighed on her, Embry didn’t seem too concerned.

“I know he went into work for a few hours today,” Embry assured quietly, “but I’m guessing it has more to do with what you told me yesterday…”

Leah released an tense chuckle, fingers curling around his t-shirt. “I told you a lot of things yesterday.”

Still, she felt Embry’s thumb and index finger lightly grasp her chin - her body not putting up much of a fight when he turned her face toward him, sincere eyebrows raised.

“The part where you told me no one knew you were coming,” Embry reminded, his voice soft. Reassuring. “Seth didn’t know you were coming, so if you think about it...for all he knows, you’re still in Chicago. Not here...and not coming.”

Pulling in a breath, Leah held it in her lungs. Hanging onto Embry’s eyes instead as she thought about the words, her quiet phone, the lack of response from her brother. It made too much sense, and she knew he’d probably already figured she wasn’t coming. That he’d probably already given up hope that she was…

That maybe not telling anyone she was coming had been a bad fucking idea.

“I need to find him,” she whispered, seeing the flicker of agreement in the gaze holding hers.

Embry nodded, the earnestness dissolving from his features when he finally smiled. As the gesture warmed her insides, sweeping away a bit of the cold resting in her veins.

"He'll be happy to see you, Leah."

Groaning softly, Leah nodded vigorously, doing everything she could to put that smile back on her face before she looked up. To look away from the imaginary spot she stared at. To look at Embry instead, and believe his words. Seeing how those ebony eyes searched hers, gauging what was going on inside her. Waiting for several long moments before his face softened - the same moment Leah’s expression relaxed.

The same moment she smiled, and the same one she caught herself believing.

It was all there - all in his eyes, the same way it always was, and she still didn’t know how the hell he did it. How he was always able to make it better. To make her stop for a second and think.

To make her smile even when she felt like she didn’t have a single fucking thing to smile for.

And that look in his eyes was back, right alongside his scent, mixing dangerously with an overwhelming gratitude Leah wanted to show.

A dominant part of her not caring where they were or who the hell might be wandering around just on the other side of the flimsy door pressed against her back. What they might see if they just stepped up to the window two feet to her right and actually took the time to look…

She really didn’t care...

Leah’s fingers grabbed a fistful of Embry’s t-shirt, her insides warming at the chuckle she heard when he gave way easily. Pulling him closer, she closed that last little bit of space he’d left between them, feeling Embry’s hands tighten on her waist a moment later, his hot breath pushing across her forehead.

“It’s a good thing you got here when you did,” he hummed against her skin, leaving a soft, warm kiss on her forehead. “I was just about to take a break…”

Closing her eyes, Leah inhaled deeply through her nose, smelling the heady traces of pine and sea beneath the motor oil and grease. The potency of it caused her veins to burn in the best kind of way. Arms lifting, they curled around Embry’s neck, pulling herself up as far as she needed to brush her lips along his pulse. To feel the roughness of his flesh beneath her mouth, pulling in another deep breath through her nose. The scent of him - of it all this close - was enough to ignite the smallest of fires inside her.

One - if she kept this up - would be out of control in a handful of seconds.

“Leah…” His voice carried a trace of warning, the sigh pushing them out warm against the side of her face.

Smiling against his skin, Leah pushed up on her tiptoes. Lightly dragging her teeth across the spot the scent was the strongest, the flames inside her only got worse when she heard the air catch in his throat. Fingers digging into Embry’s neck, she pressed one last kiss to the spot, lowering herself until her feet were flat on the floor. Not really wanting to pull away but knowing she had to.

Noticing how when Embry pulled back to look at her, his eyes were already darker. Needier.

Lips parting, Leah wondered if there was time - if she dared - to do something to temper the fire suddenly pulling at her veins. To find a place to put all that frenetic energy, the inexplicable adrenaline, lingering just beneath it.

To satisfy that need staring directly at her...

“Quil’s the only one here?”

Embry peered over her head, heaving a distracted breath but unable to do anything about the smile on his face. “For now, yeah.” The air rushing past his lips tickled Leah’s ear, giving birth to goose bumps that spread rapidly across her flesh. “Paul went out on a parts run and Jake is up in Port Angeles for the afternoon.”

Lifting one suggestive eyebrow, Leah lowered her hands to his shoulders, catching Embry’s eyes. Pressing herself against the door as far back as she could, doing what she could to see him.

“So how much time do we have?”

Embry blinked wildly, looking over her shoulder again - and both ways, like it mattered. “Time?” he sputtered. “Leah, Quil's right out there. You're not seriously…”

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, both eyebrows arching expectantly. Tempting him.

Embry grinned, looking anywhere but her eyes, even though he took an impossible step forward, his body pressing roughly against hers. Pinning her between him and the door, a playful yet somehow smoldering gaze caught her expectant one. That need back in all the places it was supposed to be.

“Fuck, you’re crazy,” he whispered, smiling anyway.

Leah was grinning too by the time she reached up, taking his face between both hands. Pulling him to her, pushing her lips greedily to Embry’s mouth. The way his hands dug into her waist, how his body ground impatiently against hers, the way he responded to it all did little to discourage her. To discourage any of it, really.

But Leah pulled away for a single second, still smiling against his mouth.

“You can walk away,” she breathed. “Anytime…”

Hoping like hell he wouldn’t listen to her...

Embry made a noise of displeasure in his throat, his fingernails digging possessively into the flesh just beneath the hem of her shirt. Dragging his teeth across her bottom lip before kissing her again, everything about it was destitute and determined and everything Leah fucking wanted.

“I won’t…” he growled.

Lacing her fingers through his hair, she tugged just enough for Embry to release a rough breath against her lips. For him to open his eyes and see her immodest smile.

“Prove it…”

She couldn’t stop the surprised cry from leaving her throat when Embry suddenly pushed back. When thick, purposeful fingers reached up, wrapping around her wrists, pulling them from his neck when his lips were suddenly on hers. Making her head fucking swim when he lifted her arms above her head, pinning them against the door. Leah’s entire body fell limp, prone and caged beneath him as Embry’s mouth drifted down. As her eyes closed and lips parted, heart pounding fiercely inside her chest when his mouth found her neck, leaving hot, purposeful kisses along her pulse. Soothing each spot when his tongue peeked out to taste her.

Blinking, Leah tried like hell to focus. To pull herself from beneath the waves of fire coursing through her veins. To simply listen. To hear the distant clanging of tools against metal, and of a single heartbeat on the other side of the wall to make sure they were still alone.

They were, and she knew Quil would never hear a thing.

So long as Embry was quiet...

Moaning softly, Leah squirmed against Embry’s hold. A rough breath escaped his lips, washing over her flushed skin when his grip on her wrists lessened. When he dropped his hands, roughly tracing the curve of her midsection, each one falling to her waist.

He wasn’t taking his time, but it gave Leah’s hands enough time to do the same. Finding his arms in the midst of everything else, her head turned brusquely, capturing his mouth with hers one last time before her grip tightened against the cotton sleeves of his t-shirt.

Roughly gathering the fabric between her fingers, Leah pushed, moving faster than Embry could anticipate. Catching him off guard as she used that strength inside her - strength she saved for moments like this. Pulling him around, one step all she needed to trap him against the door. To raise her brows at wide eyes that couldn’t stop watching her.

Stretching to meet him, she couldn’t quite reach his mouth without his help, ghosting faint kisses along his jaw instead. Nipping lightly at his flesh, one hand pushed beneath his t-shirt, traveling over defined lines she’d already memorized. Savoring the heat beneath her palm as the other ventured lower, gripping him through his jeans.

The way Embry’s breath caught in his throat only fueled her. Only made her want it more.

“You gotta promise to be quiet,” she whispered, dragging her fingernails down his abdomen. Ignoring how his hands curled roughly against her shoulders.

“Leah…” Her name was a breathless gasp, low and pleading.

“Quiet…” she repeated, murmuring the barely-audible word against his jaw. Pulling away as her hands traveled, both met at the hem of his t-shirt. Pushing it up with undeviating fingers, her body lowered, knees bending just before her mouth found the smooth skin. Leaving hot, deep kisses there before she moved down - lips brushing over the trail of soft, fine hair disappearing beneath his jeans, following it as her knees found the concrete beneath her.

Peering up at Embry, Leah found him already watching her, lips parted as he fought to catch his breath. Hands clamped into fists at his sides, dark, cloudy eyes followed every fucking move she made.

An invisible, visceral shudder ripped through Leah’s body when his tongue peeked out, licking his lips. Holding his gaze, her hands reached up, undeviating fingers finding the button of his jeans. Undoing it slowly, Leah pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as her fingers lowered, a zipper following. As she smiled up at him, one hand gently freeing Embry from the restrictive material, every inch of him hard and ready in her hands.

Her own breaths were heavy and fast, that insistent need back in every part of her body. Coursing through her veins, she needed it all as her grip tightened just slightly. As she refused to lower her eyes, to intent on seeing how Embry stared. The way he looked, paralyzed and waiting for her. She kept watching, even when she leaned forward, everything about the haze in his eyes exacerbating the burning inside her.

Heightening her need to feel him.

The need to taste him…

Closing that last bit of space, she gave in, taking him between her lips. Waiting - dragging it out - despite the way his body tensed. Despite the soft groan she could hear as it pierced the silence surrounding them. As it cut off abruptly - as he remembered what she said. As it was replaced with the sound of restrained exhales leaving Embry’s body.

As he stopped breathing altogether the moment she she let her tongue explore. When she parted her lips even farther, taking him in completely, sheathing him in the warmth of her mouth.

Finally losing her eyes, Leah reached up with her free hand, fingers finding purchase on his abdomen. Dragging her nails across the strained muscles, Embry let a moan she could barely hear escape his lips.

“Fuck, Leah…” he breathed, the words punctuated with labored breaths. “Don’t…”

He never finished the thought, the words getting lost in his throat as she released him. As she smiled, taking him in again - her movements more purposeful, more hurried, more intense, knowing the time they had was limited. She lost herself in her movements, and in the way Embry fought to stay silent. How every muscle in his body tensed and released, and in every small noise he made. How his fingers twisted through her hair, hanging on for dear life.

Knowing she had to make it count, but wanting to drag it out as long as she could.

She didn’t stop, even when she noticed a shift in Embry. When he tensed against her, staying that way. Making a noise in his throat she tried to ignore, his hand drifted down, fingertips ghosting across her cheek.

Almost like he was trying - unsuccessfully - to get her attention.

“Leah…” When Embry finally found his voice, it was hoarse and thick with reluctance. Still, she didn’t let up, refusing to acknowledge it. A hum of disapproval buzzed in her throat, causing Embry to jerk.

“Fuck, Leah, you have to...you need to...stop…”

There was insistence in his voice that time - a distraction Leah didn’t like, and one that confirmed it was no longer just about the idea of getting caught. Not anymore...

With a groan that could only be heard inside her throat, Leah pulled back slowly. Taking her time anyway, her mouth used all the pressure she knew he could take, relishing in the dazed groan she could hear above her. Smiling in spite of it all, she licked her lips thoughtlessly, trying to ignore the way Embry shuddered beneath her hands.

“What?” she whispered, finally peering up at him with hooded eyes.

He was already watching her, his gaze black. Chest heaving with labored breaths, he threw a shaken glance toward the office windows, his head rocking back and forth as he tried to pull himself back together.

“Dammit, just…listen…”

Releasing a sigh, Leah stayed still, doing what he asked and listening to the space outside the small room. Hearing the faint hum of a car motor outside, the unmistakable sound of new voices invaded the solitude that, in that moment, Leah had found herself so desperately wanting.

“Son of a bitch,” Embry muttered, reaching out for Leah as he let his head fall back against the door with a disconcerted thud. Ignoring how reluctantly he took her hand, she allowed him to pull her to her feet. Drifting inherently into the corner, Leah brushed her thumb across the corner of her mouth before crossing her arms tightly in front of her chest.

Silently, she was swearing at the person who decided to show up, even though it suddenly occurred to her it could be a number of people outside the shop. It could just be Paul. It could be a complete stranger.

It could be any other member of the pack…

Embry turned to face her, his hands lifting from buttoning his jeans. The disappointment was just as tangible in his eyes when he stepped forward, one hand lifting as it cupped Leah’s cheek. Offering her a regretful yet amused smile, a single moment passed before Leah gave him one in return.

“Later?” he whispered, one eyebrow raising hopefully.

Rolling her eyes and fighting the grin threatening to overtake her face, Leah nodded, remembering another reason she’d come here. The reason Embry had proposed it in the first place…

“Later,” she repeated, finally releasing her smile. “Maybe after dinner tonight?”

Smiling, Embry leaned forward, kissing her one last time. Swiftly. Like a habit, just before he took a step back, a sheepish look replacing the smile on his face.

“Can you go first? I need a second…”

Leah snickered, stepping out of the corner and toward the door, warming a bit when she saw the subtle blush race across Embry’s cheeks.

“You act like you’ve never done this before…” she teased.  
  
“At work?” Embry countered with wide eyes. “I haven’t.”

Fingers curling around the cool metal of the doorknob, Leah hesitated, giving them one more moment of solitude before she would ultimately decide to let herself out. “We’ll have to fix that one of these days.”

Embry’s gaze softened, his shoulders rising and falling with a heavy breath.

“I fucking hope so…”

Leah stepped out of the office in time to see Quil hurrying outside, disappearing behind the SUV he was working on and talking loudly to someone she couldn’t see. His back toward her, he was clearly focused on the commotion outside and paying absolutely no attention to her absence - or to Embry’s, confirming he hadn’t seen or suspected a thing. She let out a relieved breath, stepping away from the office. Taking a few more to calm the residual embers inside her, she closed the door behind her. Leaving Embry behind as she reached up, checking her reflection in the window glass. Thankful she didn’t look as flustered as she suddenly felt, Leah smoothed her hair, straightening her shirt - tugging on it one more time than necessary, just for good measure - before walking slowly from the garage bay.

Reaching the garage door through which she’d entered earlier, Leah let her fingers run along the SUV’s black paint. Holding her breath as she reached its bumper, she planted one hand firmly against the metal, resisting the urge to use it as a hiding place.

But supporting herself, just in case.

Squinting to see through the abundant sunlight that hadn’t been there earlier, her heart stuttered - realizing in less than a moment, another greeting was on its way.

“Look who I found on the side of the road on the way back.”

Paul hadn’t changed one bit. It took Leah a single second to realize it, recognizing the confident swagger in his gait as he climbed out from the truck bearing the garage’s name and logo on the driver’s side door. Every hard line of his face, the pronounced and obvious definition of his muscles peeking from beneath the sleeves of his black t-shirt, the smirk permanently attached to his lips - all of it was exactly how Leah remembered. A man with entirely too much bravado - one who knew just how much he possessed. One with a fire that matched her own, who had always went toe to toe with Leah in both arguments and competitions.

“So, did you get the parts? I fucking hope so, man, or Jake’s gonna have a shit fit…”

Paul frowned, closing the door behind him and throwing a glance toward the other side of the truck. Reaching up, he plucked a mutilated straw out from its resting place between his teeth. “Relax, dude, I got the fucking parts. Jake’d probably do more damage had I left her on the side of the road.”

Leah hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until her lungs burned. Sucking in a silent gulp of air, she followed the direction of Paul’s nod. Watching another figure emerge from the truck, she couldn’t quite see the person until seconds later when a girl rounded the hood, her eyes wide and everything about her face frazzled.

“I know, I know,” the girl exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation like she was expecting Quil to scold her. “You guys told me to get in here last week and get the alternator fixed, but everything has been so crazy…”

The girl was small - Leah guessed she couldn’t be more than a few inches over five feet tall. She had delicate features, dark brown eyes not quite hidden beneath a pair of glasses with rectangular frames. Her skin was a rich caramel, lighter than Leah’s or Quil’s or any of the others surrounding her, but she had distinct Native American features - high cheekbones, sleek black hair that cascaded down her back in a long, loose ponytail.

Her beauty was simple and innocent. It was kind. Not the type that stopped men on the street, but the kind that made them linger. That made them stay put long after.

“You know you can call us when something like that happens, right?” Quil questioned.

“Yeah, I know,” the girl admitted, bashful eyes lowering to the ground before taking another step and closing the distance between her and Paul. Giving him a friendly nudge with her shoulder, she grinned sheepishly when he glanced down, offering her one cashmere smile in return. “But this guy drove by literally five minutes after the car stalled. Didn’t really need to.”

Chuckling, Paul popped the straw back in his mouth, shaking his head. He didn’t hesitate as he threw an arm across the girl’s shoulders, pulling her against him in a surprising show of gentleness.

“Only you could have this much bad luck during a week like this,” Paul murmured, winking when she peered up at him.

The girl rolled her eyes, tiredly crossing her arms in front of her chest. “You’re telling me.”

None of them moved, and neither did Leah, at least not until Quil let out an exasperated sigh.

“So I suppose this means I have to call the towing place in Forks, huh?”

“Yup,” Paul muttered, brushing friendly fingers along the girl’s shoulder before he stepped away, walking to the back of the truck. Lowering the tailgate, he bent forward, effortlessly retrieving a large cardboard box from the bed. “Unless you want to push the car back here.”

“Fuck,” Quil grumbled, turning on his heel. Kicking up dust, he trudged petulantly back toward the garage, his gaze landing on Leah for a split second. He didn’t give it a second thought when he shrugged his shoulders lazily.

Like her being there was the most natural thing in the world.

“I’d almost rather… I hate those guys,” he continued, talking more to her than anyone else. “Old bastards always try to fucking overcharge us, like we’re a bunch of idiots or something.”

Leah didn’t respond, offering Quil a simple, anxious smile as he walked to the other side of the SUV, disappearing into the garage. Her eyes traveled back outside - to the girl who had made her way back to the truck’s passenger door, no longer visible as she hopped in the cab to retrieve her things. To Paul, who precariously balanced the awkward box on one arm as the other closed the tailgate.

Leah watched as he grabbed it with both hands, his head still visible over the top. Turning toward the garage, Paul walked directly toward her. And still, Leah felt her throat tighten, even though he had yet to see her.

Even though she knew it would only be a second…

Even though in reality, it was less than that.

Paul’s black eyes found hers almost immediately, growing wider by just a fraction as his pace slowed slightly, fingers tightening roughly against the box.

They stared each other down for a moment, but Paul never stopped. He watched her warily, the straw bobbing back and forth, sliding over his lips as he chewed on it. His mouth opened slightly, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite get the words out.

Leah stood tall, somehow unrelenting in the face of the one watching her. Remembering what Embry told her, a part of her expected the worst - for venomous words to fall from those lips and pierce exactly where she figured they would. Steeling herself on the inside, she did what she could, preparing for Paul to be the next person who gave her enough shit to question why she did this. To make her remember why she’d put this off for so long and why she’d stayed away in the first place.

Still, what she hadn’t prepared for - or what startled her more - was the fact Paul smiled at her. The fact he suddenly seemed less than fazed she was standing in his path.

“‘Bout time you fucking showed up,” he grumbled.

Leah’s lips parted in shock when she heard the goodnatured tone hidden just beneath the cutting words. She blinked, the moment suspended in some kind of weird time, before she could feel her own words push through the tightness in her chest.

“So does Jake pay you for your jack-assed opinions, too?”

Paul scoffed, shaking his head with an amused smirk. “So, the she-wolf still bites back, huh?”

Leah was surprised when she felt one corner of her mouth twitch.

“Fuck, girl, I figured there’d be a few awkward seconds of catch-up, but you don’t miss a beat, do you?”

“I just missed you, Paul,” she jeered, letting everything else go for a moment and offering him a large, saccharine smile as he passed her. His chuckle still grated at something inside her though, even long after he disappeared into the garage.

Taking a few steps, Leah crossed to the second door of the garage so she could see inside the building. She located Paul as he walked to the back of the building, depositing the box on a vacant workbench. For a moment - as he turned back toward the front, catching her waching him - Leah thought she was home free. That maybe Paul was going to leave it at that, even if a smaller part warned herself against it, knowing she should probably know better.

Knowing she was probably right when she saw Paul glance toward the floor, shaking his head with a chuckle that scraped at Leah’s nerves.

“Man, Sam’s gonna shit a brick when he finds out you’re back…”

“Paul…” Quil shot him a withering glance from his place in front of the SUV, all the ease gone from his lighthearted features. He’d cut in before Leah could even acknowledge that dull, empty feeling inside of her. It was still there, though - that residual pain she always knew rested someone where deep inside, waiting for moments like these. Waiting for the reminders, no matter how long it had been since she last thought about it.

“What?” Paul snapped defensively, moving toward the hydraulic lift in the bay closest to Leah. “Just pointing out something I’m sure she already knows, considering it’s the reason she hasn’t set foot on this reservation in the last six years.”

They all knew...exactly how long it had been. Leah could hear it in Paul’s voice, buried not so deep beneath the snark in it.

And she heard Jacob’s voice in her head, words from weeks earlier.

But I do want you to know, that you still hurt us, too…

“I’m sure she does, dude,” Quil muttered, casting a cursory glance at Leah before looking back to Paul. “Doesn’t mean you need to fucking remind her.”

“She’s a big girl,” Paul retorted, glaring at Leah. Raising one eyebrow, waiting for her to argue. To agree. Waiting for something. “She doesn’t need you to fight her battles, Q.”

Leah ignored how her hands trembled, an agitation scratching at her insides. A part of Leah urged her to stand up for herself, unsure of how she was able to gather the courage so quickly when she squared her shoulders, staring Paul down.

“He’s right,” she cut in, her voice smooth and cold. “I know damn well what I’m walking to.”

Even though it was lie.

Knowing no matter how much she tried to prepare herself for the worst of it, there would be no way she could anticipate how that moment would go. How she would react. What it would do to her...

Gaping at her for a moment, Quil shrugged when Paul chuckled under his breath.

“Doesn’t mean you have to be a dick about it, man…”

Leah’s gaze snapped back toward Quil, realizing it wasn’t just him standing there anymore. She didn’t move a muscle, realizing Embry was standing just behind Quil, his dark, uncompromising stare bearing down on Paul. The look in his eyes warning him he might want to think twice about pushing it or saying something else.

Paul snorted, offering no response except a goading shake of his head. His hand reached out, flipping the switch to lower the lift. “Jesus. Good to see she’s back for five minutes and you’re already up her ass, Call,” he spat out sarcastically.

“What the fuck, dude?”

Leah’s breath caught in her throat, watching as Embry’s face hardened with his words. As his eyes caught fire and he took a step forward. As she blinked, knowing perfectly well this was where the old Leah would have intervened.

Knowing in a situation like this, she had never needed anyone to fight her battles for her...

Suddenly filling her lungs with air, Leah took her own step toward the garage.

“Okay, seriously? Can both you boys just put away your cocks for a second and listen?”

The words were unnegotiable, somehow stopping Embry in his tracks. Paul simply stared at her, a curious but rapt expression spreading across his face, almost like he was waiting for - like he was anticipating - what she had to say.

Like he was waiting for her to prove that maybe she was no longer the girl who allowed her weakness to dictate her actions, like it did so many years earlier. That she was no longer the person who thought running - that turning the other cheek - was the only way to escape all this…

That maybe traces of the person she was before were still there.

Just for good measure, Leah lifted one challenging eyebrow. Letting her stare alternate between Paul and Embry, she tried not to linger too much on Paul.

“I know Sam’s probably not my biggest fan, even after how long it’s been, but guess what?” she ground out, her voice steady despite the heaviness of the words. “I’m not his either, so whatever he plans to shoot my way, I can assure you both that I can fucking handle it.” Leah faltered, taking a moment. Feeling every eye in the garage on her, she fought to steady herself on the inside. As she drew on all the pieces of the person she used to be, and the ones she'd managed to find along the way. “I don’t plan on causing trouble while I’m here, if that’s what you think. And I can promise you, after all the bullshit I’ve went through on my own, I can handle it... whatever Sam has to throw at me.”

Leah’s mouth closed with a snap, the adrenaline brought on by her words simmering just beneath her skin. Causing her fingers to tremble, she dug them into her forearms. A part of her knew the words were more than likely a lie, but another part of her still believed in the conviction behind them. Another part of her knowing the truth on which she’d based them.

Knowing in a handful of seconds, she’d filled Paul and Quil in about as much as she was going to...

Taking a deep breath, her gaze flicked toward Embry.

The smallest of smiles rested on his lips. He held her eyes for a moment - that subtle pride back in his - before his head dipped, redirecting his gaze to the floor.

Leah’s gaze redirected to Paul, who waited a moment before both brows raised in indignant surprise. Before he looked away, too.

Conceding the moment to her.

Chuckling, Leah tried like hell to smile. “Are they always like this?” she finally asked, also trying to keep the lightness in her voice. To reinforce her words as she looked to Quil, motioning to the other men.

Quil snickered, keeping his eyes focused on the engine in front of him despite the mischievousness in his grin. “Oh, how easy you forget,” he murmured teasingly. “Really, though...it depends on the day, but for the most part? Yeah…”

The smile on Leah’s mouth wasn’t forced, wincing for Quil when his words were followed by Embry’s fist connecting with his bicep.

But Leah looked back in time to see a spark in Paul’s eyes, the smile falling from her lips when his eyes found something over her shoulder, releasing a foreboding laugh as he stepped around to the front of the sedan that now had all four wheels firmly on the ground.

A glint reassuring her that no matter what she said, he was far from done.

That the tests were far from over...

“Well, we’re certainly glad to have you back, Leah,” Paul spoke up loudly, the authenticity in his words overly assured and entirely too friendly. “You know, especially in time for your brother’s wedding. I’m sure he’ll be happy you’re back.”

Leah frowned, taking a moment to study him as he appraised her in return. As he smirked, his gaze darting behind her once again.

As Leah paused, holding her breath. Wondering…

Listening…

Hearing another heartbeat. Hearing it directly behind her. Hearing it speed up as its owner finally found a voice.

“...Leah?”

It was then she remembered the girl...the one from the truck. The small, pretty girl who’s car broke down. Who needed a new alternator. Who Paul was gentle with. Who gravitated toward them. Like brothers...

Wondering - although a part of her already knew - how she could possibly know Leah’s name.

Fuck...

Holding her breath, Leah packed a thousand venomous words into her stare, directing it at Paul for a split second, even though he lowered his gaze and refused to look. Even though he knew he likely went too far.

Leah’s feet finally moved. She tried to will away all the anger from her features, and she tried to soften her eyes.

Turning around completely, she found the girl standing a few feet behind her, dark brown eyes wide behind her glasses. Lips still parted from speaking Leah’s name, the girl’s cheeks were rosy with anxious heat. Her heart still raced as she realized who was standing there.

As Leah realized who was standing in front of her.

“Grace…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Holy action-packed chapter. Lots of small things happening in here, at least I thought so! :)
> 
> Alright, guys, just a heads up - the hubs and I are getting ready to move this week and next to be in a new place by Nov. 1. That being said, I might be tied up with RL stuff for a couple weeks - and could also be Internet-less for an undetermined amount of time. I’ve unfortunately used up my cushion for this story, but I just want you to know - if there’s a delay in updates, I hope you stick with me and know in advance that I appreciate your patience. :)
> 
> Can’t wait to hear your thoughts!


	21. Reunion

_**Suggested Listening: "Buzzcut Season" by Lorde, "Caught A Long Wind" by Feist, "Follow You Down To The Red Oak Tree" by James Vincent McMorrow, "Rabbit Hole" by The Temper Trap** _

Leah wasn't certain, but she was pretty sure if she stood still any longer - if she refused to pull in a breath and soothe that burn in her aching lungs - her heart might actually pound its way right out of her chest.

Damn it, she hadn't even considered it. She hadn't even put two and two together to ask herself the questions necessary to come up with a conclusion that would have allowed her to figure out who the girl was. Who it was that, only moments earlier, had been standing several feet away from her.

Who was now standing directly in front of her, staring at her with wide, curious eyes. An innocent, unassuming gaze that unhinged Leah almost as much as the simple fact she was there.

_Say something…_

_Fuck, say_ something _..._

"Oh, god…"

Leah was fairly certain the words hadn't come from her mouth, and it was only confirmed when she finally blinked, seeing Grace's arms lift from her sides. Registering an inexplicable elation in the smile that pulled at the girl's lips.

Waiting for the next round of  _all this_  to come, Leah silently tried to anticipate how it would, still trying to think of something to fucking say to the girl who was marrying her brother in two days.

"You're  _real_."

And suddenly Leah was bent at the waist, allowing the girl to wrap her arms haphazardly around Leah's shoulders. To gather her in an overly friendly hug that Leah had  _somehow_ seen coming but in no way prepared herself for. Not really.

A part of her was more than taken aback that, because with the exception of Embry, Grace's gesture could have been the most genuine, friendly reception she'd received since setting foot back in La Push.

_From the last person she would have expected it to come from..._

It took a moment, but Leah eventually reached up. She eventually returned the hug with a half-hearted, leery one of her one, reminding herself to relax. To accept it.

To ignore the amused chuckles coming from the garage behind her.

"We should have bet on how that one was gonna go..." Leah barely heard Quil's murmur, a small part of her thankful there was no way Grace could have.

"Wouldn't have mattered. I woulda bet on the same thing you did…"  _Embry_.

Leah resisted the urge to groan, noticing how her heart was finally slowing down. How the tightness in her chest started to dissolve once she'd finally taken her first breath in what felt like hours.

Face screwing up in confusion, Leah pulled back slightly, swearing silently to herself when the words finally spilled from her mouth.

"Am I...not  _supposed_ to be?"

Grace released her, taking a swift step back. Her head dipped as she brought her hands up to her temples, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head in disbelief. "No, no...of course you're supposed to be, it's just...I mean...oh, god, this is coming out all wrong."

"Breathe, girl!" Leah heard Quil yell from behind them. "Leah won't bite...at least not  _that_ hard."

"Quil!" Leah snapped, her voice laced with warning, suddenly finding the muscles in her body she'd forgotten about as the upper half of her frame swiveled around. A little part of her relished how Quil winced - how he held up his hands in a placating gesture, taking a step behind Embry, who was watching the entire scene in amusement.

"Sorry…" Quil grumbled apologetically. "Just trying to diffuse the tension."

Rolling her eyes, Leah turned back to the girl in front of her, who was still watching her - eyes just as wide, lips still parted in disbelief.

"I…I'm sorry," Grace stammered an apology, shaking her head again. "I just...didn't think you were coming."

Taking a deep breath, Leah crossed her arms tightly in front of her chest, letting her gaze find the dirt below them. "Neither did I."

"Does Seth know you're here?"

Closing her eyes for a split second, Leah waited before she opened them, gathering the answer she'd given everyone else before she looked up.

"Not yet."

Still, the wide smile didn't leave Grace's mouth. "I was gonna say...he was gonna be in huge trouble...and I mean  _massive_ trouble if he knew you were coming and didn't tell me." Grace took a step forward, both arms lifting as her hands clasped Leah's shoulders. As Leah still tried to come up with a way to feel about it - to react to the way this girl was reacting to  _her_.

Searching somewhere inside her, Leah tried to remember what Embry told her about Grace. Her mind instinctively drifted back to the night she first found out about her brother's imprint, and how Embry never really answered her when Leah asked him how much Grace knew about her. About the reasons she left.

He'd only really given her one thing to go on. One thing to hang onto, should this moment ever arise.

_She knows who you are, and she wants you there, Leah…_

_She wants you there because you're Seth's sister and he loves you._

Grace's small hands squeezed Leah's shoulders, bringing her out of her thoughts. Assuring Leah that regardless of what Grace knew, in this moment, it didn't matter.

It didn't matter because she was  _there_ , and that's all that mattered to her.

"But this is an okay surprise," Grace murmured, nodding with conviction. "Perfect, actually. I'm so glad you're here, Leah...that Seth's whole family will be here now. That I finally got to meet you...and that I can get to know you."

The words inexplicably drew the breath from Leah's lungs, each one still everything she was not expecting. How even after so few of them, a part of her was already seeing what Embry told her about Grace - the kindness in her eyes. Learning new things on her own as she heard the sincerity in her soft words. The meaningful way she spoke them.

Leah opened her mouth to reply, but the words were stuck in her throat. Her entire body was suddenly overcome with a feeling of warmth, one that closely resembled a belonging she'd only ever felt this potently with Embry, although in an entirely different way.

Swallowing thickly, Leah pushed down the knot in her throat, knowing there was only one thing to say - one thing this girl in front of her deserved, even if Leah still didn't know for sure. One thing a larger part of Leah meant, pushing all the sincerity she could right out with the words.

"I'm sorry it's taken me so long…"

Smiling, Grace released a breath, almost like a weight lifted from her narrow shoulders.

In that moment, Leah felt another presence beside her. Glancing to her left, Leah met Paul's gaze, holding it a second before he looked away, turning those steely eyes on Grace.

"You ready for me to take you home?"

Grace's eyes danced hesitantly between Paul and Leah before she slowly exhaled. "Yes," she conceded, her gaze finally settling on Leah. "But...will you stop by our place when you get done here? Now that you're here, I have something for you. If you want it, that is."

Leah chewed on the question for a moment, knowing what she  _needed_ to say - knowing she needed to think about giving this opportunity to the person asking - but also knowing this could be  _her_ opportunity to see her brother. Leah knew it was long overdue at this point and needed to happen because the margin of time she'd given herself - the one where her brother might still forgive her for not telling him she was coming - was quickly narrowing.

Taking a deep breath, Leah nodded.

"Sure. I'll stop out."

Grace grinned, hitching her thumbs in the pockets of her jeans before she took a step back, followed by another. She was still watching Leah as Paul brushed past her, heading for the truck without so much as a glance back.

"Great," she replied softly, the smile on her face refusing to dissipate. "We live out by the road to the lumberyard. Do you...know where that is?"

Leah nodded again, knowing exactly where Grace was referring but for whatever reason, not feeling the need to remind her this had been her home once, too.

"I think I can find my way…"

Grace's eyes were practically dancing just before she turned away.

"I'll see you later then," she murmured, turning on her heel with one last smile before running to catch up to Paul.

Leah stood there longer than she needed to, ignoring the way Paul revved the truck motor before he peeled out of the garage's parking lot. Crossing her arms tighter in front of her body, Leah watched them go, a part of her still trying to process what had just happened and how in the hell it managed to go as well as it had.

But she didn't question it, choosing instead to simply hang onto the gratitude she felt. The inexplicable ease that was somehow born from it.

With a heavy sigh, Leah finally tore her eyes away from the road, glancing down at the dirt for a split second before peering over her shoulder. Before noticing Quil had gone back to work on the SUV and that Embry was suddenly nowhere to be found.

Her gaze shifted, a small smile pulling at her lips when she found Embry a moment later, standing near the door to the first bay, leaning lazily against the SUV's bumper. Arms crossed in front of his chest, he didn't say a word, instead choosing to simply watch her.

Releasing a heavy breath, Leah's feet moved without permission. She threw one last cursory glance toward the road before silently making her way to where Embry stood. Looking back, she found his eyes were still on her.

Leah's feet stopped beneath her, eyebrows lifting in concession before an ironic smile formed on her mouth.

"Don't say a fucking word," she muttered, one finger pointing at Embry in warning, the words still laced with a lightheartedness.

Embry's face screwed up in mock disdain, his smile staying where it was. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Leah toed the dirt beneath her feet, watching the movement a little too intently before she took the last few steps needed to reach the building. "He really didn't tell her, did he?" she asked quietly, still not able to completely fathom how easy it had been. How the person loved by one of those she hurt the most was able to accept Leah's presence in La Push with wide-open arms.

She looked up in time to see Embry shrug and push himself off the SUV's bumper, his frame straightening. "Does it matter?" he replied, his features soft and resigned. "It obviously doesn't to her."

"I guess not," Leah admitted, peering out at the road one last time, Embry's words making an imperfect kind of sense stacked up against those Grace spoke minutes earlier.

"You did great with Paul…"

Leah snorted, grinning before she could stop herself. She glanced back at Embry, shrugging knowingly. "That's because he's still an asshole…"

Embry chuckled, taking a step toward her, even though Leah could see the hesitance in his stance. How he was actively trying to keep his distance considering where they were and how they no longer had the cover of office walls and flimsy mini-blinds.

"So…" Embry murmured, somehow still moving closer, drawn toward her all the same despite his efforts. He stepped just inside the building until he was standing in the narrow space between the SUV and the garage door frame. "I get off at five and really need to get all these invoices processed before Jake gets back or I might not be alive to make it to dinner tonight."

Leah nodded, leaning against the building, painfully aware at that point there were only a handful of inches separating them. "And from the sound of it, I have a bridesmaid's dress to go try on," she deadpanned, lifting her eyebrows in amusement.

Embry grinned, and Leah didn't miss how in that moment, his eyes sparkled. "Call me when you get done there so we can figure out tonight." His smile turned soft, and Leah found herself inexplicably holding her breath. "Or just...if you need  _anything_ , okay?"

Nodding again, Leah released a deep breath, lifting her gaze to catch Embry's. His fingers curled around the garage door frame before his eyes lowered, finding hers once again before he took one step out of the garage, keeping close to it as he did.

Making sure no one would see as Leah felt his fingers quickly ghost across her cheek, the same moment he dipped his head, leaving a swift, soft kiss on her mouth.

Leah pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, holding in her smile once he leaned back - not all the way, but enough for her to see a smile that no doubt resembled hers.

_The way he was gazing at her doing little to discourage her..._

She couldn't help it as she reached toward his chest, fingers grabbing a fistful of t-shirt as she pulled him back, immediately overtaken by the warmth in her veins and a twisting in her stomach, inhaling sharply just before she kissed him again.

Grateful all over again that he was simply  _there_. That she could count on  _him_.

Another part of her not giving a fuck if anyone saw.

Releasing him, Leah took a step back, trying like hell to ignore the pleased yet needful way he was looking at her. She took a deep breath, even though it did little to soothe the subtle burn she could feel buzzing through her veins. Unable to look away from those eyes, she could see a hundred different thoughts and emotions passing through them as they followed her.

"I'll be fine," she whispered.

Embry's chest heaved with a long, slow breath. Finally pushing himself of the building, he shoved his hands in his pockets instead, offering her a subtle wink and one last sincere smile of his own before disappearing back into the garage.

"You'll be  _great_."

* * *

Leah stood awkwardly in the middle of a living room, inside a strange house she'd never been in before.

The silence was unnerving, but Leah drew in a deep, ragged breath to calm her frenetic nerves, shifting back and forth from one foot to the other. Down the hall, she could hear the faint noises caused by Grace moving around in a bedroom Leah had yet to see.

After leaving the garage, Leah walked back to Oceanside to get her car. The drive to where Seth and Grace lived - on the northern edge of the reservation, near a road that led deep into the forest - was short, but it felt like it took forever to get there. Fingers curling tightly around the steering wheel, Leah couldn't help but wonder what would be waiting for her when she got there. If Seth would be home - and if he wasn't, whether she should wait for him until he got there.

If she  _did_ decide to wait, she wondered what she and Grace would talk about while she did.

Pulling into the driveway, Leah pushed down all the what-ifs, letting her eyes sweep over the modest brown house. It was hard for her to swallow - the fact her brother was old enough to have his own home, or that he was old enough to live in it with a small, kind girl he was going to marry in two days. It didn't seem right to Leah, who still had a picture in her mind as to what her brother looked like - a tall, gangly teenager with warm eyes and a kind-hearted grin. That was all she could remember - who he was to her then, and the only person she could imagine was the fifteen-year-old kid she left behind.

But he wasn't fifteen anymore, and Leah still wasn't sure. The single conversation they had a month earlier wasn't quite enough to temper her imagination and the thoughts that left her wondering just how much he'd changed, or how to best approach a version of her brother she quite possibly had never met.

And she couldn't help but wonder...if he would react the same way as their mother. If there was still a place in his life for her.

If maybe it was too late for them, too.

Drawing in another breath, Leah shook her head in a futile effort to clear it. When Grace opened the door minutes earlier, Leah once again was greeted by a smile that held no pretenses. She could find no visible, preconceived notions of who Grace thought she was or why she stayed away for so long.

And Leah was thankful for it, in some unfamiliar kind of way - for clear brown eyes and the possibility of an unexpected ally.

After offering Leah food or something to drink, to which Leah tried her best to politely decline, Grace asked her to wait in the living room while she went to get something from the spare room.

It gave Leah a chance to look around and gather her bearings. The inside of the house was just as understated as the outside. There were no fancy furnishings or a huge flat-screen television. It looked like the home of a young couple that was just starting out, and for whatever reason, that soothed Leah, too - seeing the tangible evidence that Grace wasn't the kind of girl who demanded material things.

The younger woman had done her best, though, to turn the house into a home. Handmade curtains hung in the windows, and Leah recognized the area rug beneath her feet, knowing exactly which tribal elder it was who wove and sold them out out of her garage where she kept the loom. The brown recliner in the living room also looked familiar, and it took Leah only a moment to realize it was her father's - the one replaced with a newer version in her mother's house. Grace had set up pictures, framed memories lining two entire shelves of the hutch pushed into the corner.

Holding her breath, Leah's body disconnected with the rest of her, crossing the space between her and the hutch before she could really think better of it. A part of her wanted to see the photos - to see the memories and maybe get a tiny glimpse into the things she missed in her brother's life. In his life with Grace.

One shelf of photos were ones she expected - close-up shots of the two of them taken in various, unknown places. Leah lingered on her brother's face in almost all of them, noticing he had, in fact, changed some. The boyish softness from his features had almost completely disappeared, creating harder, more pronounced lines. His hair was longer than she remembered, too.

But it was still Seth. That kind face was still the same. Despite how much time had passed and everything she'd done, those warm, pure eyes were still there.

Leah continued to search the photos on the second shelf, realizing those were less of Seth and Grace and more of the others in their lives. There was a photo of their father from one of many fishing trips the family had taken when Leah was much younger. Blinking away the heat gathering in the corners, Leah forced her eyes to move on. There was a photograph of Jacob and Bella, and Leah could immediately tell it was a wedding portrait. There was another of Seth with Quil and Embry, grinning broadly for the camera, all three of them decked out in suits at what appeared to be another wedding. Silently, Leah wondered whose it was - if it was Jacob and Bella's, too. If it was someone else's…

But she didn't linger on it. She didn't wonder, because right next to that one was a photo she remembered. One she'd seen before.

It was one of her...with Seth. It was taken at a pack bonfire, only weeks before she left. She remembered her mother snapping it and how Seth had groaned in protest just before Leah threw her arm around his shoulders, pulling him close and telling him to suck it up, ignoring how he smiled for the camera long before she did.

And in that moment, Leah smiled again, an expression she was certain mirrored the one she saw in the photo. The one she'd given the camera that day. She smiled because no matter what she was thinking - no matter how many uncertainties still swirled around a reunion that had yet to happen - the picture was there. In his house.

Proving, in the smallest of ways, that Leah's presence in her brother's life still mattered.

Giving her a sliver of hope. Not as much as she wanted, but just enough to count on.

"Sometimes, I thought they made you up…"

Leah heard the footsteps in the hallway long before the soft voice, although as lost as she was in her own thoughts, it still startled her. Blinking rapidly, Leah tore her gaze away from the photos, inherently crossing her arms in front of her chest before she turned around to face the source of the voice.

Grace was standing in the doorway leading to the hall. Leaning against the frame, a small smile resting on her lips, both eyebrows raised behind her glasses. In her arms, she held a black garment bag, the coarse fabric not allowing Leah to see inside it.

_Even though she already knew what it contained..._

Swallowing thickly, Leah recycled Grace's words in her head, reminding herself not to frown. "What do you mean?"

The other woman released a soft sigh, her gaze flickering toward the floor. Leah watched her as she took a few tentative steps. She was so small, Leah noticed as Grace approached her. So young, but there wasn't a single shred of meekness in her features. She carried herself easily. Confidently, yet it was subdued in a way any other person - one who wasn't instinctively wired to pay attention with all five senses - would have to look hard to see.

"Even with the pictures, I thought that sometimes," Grace continued, finally glancing up as she readjusted the garment bag on her arm, stopping a few steps from Leah. "I think I just had a really hard time wrapping my head around it, you know? The pack would mention you, and Seth did, too… a lot. So it made me wonder how someone who clearly meant so much to Seth could exist, yet…" Her words cut off, lips pressed into an amiable smile to keep her from saying anything more that might be out of place.

Leah nodded listlessly, ignoring the flash of regret in her stomach that, over twenty-four hours, had become so commonplace it would have made more sense had she  _not_ noticed it. Still, she looked Grace directly in her eyes, saying the only thing she could think of in that moment, unsure of how much Grace knew. Still, Leah didn't want to volunteer too much.

"I  _didn't_ exist," Leah whispered, her mouth dry and the words heavy. "Not really...at least not to anyone here, but that was kind of the point."

Grace smiled. It was the first time Leah noticed the deep dimples in each of her cheeks.

"But you  _do_ ," she replied surely. "Which means I didn't buy this dress for nothing." Laughing softly, Grace nodded toward the garment bag in her hands. "And I know I haven't officially  _asked_ you to be in the wedding yet, but I know Seth mentioned it to you when he talked to you earlier this month. So, I hope you don't mind…" Her eyes widened slightly, glimmering with a subdued hope. "I poked through your old closet at Sue's house, and she told me she was willing to bet your size hadn't changed much since you technically  _stopped_ changing seven years ago."

Leah offered the other woman an ironic smile, ignoring the dull pang she felt deep in her stomach at the mention of her mother. "Size six?"

Grace's grin was almost blinding. "Guess you  _haven't_ changed that much." Shifting the garment bag in her arms so the zipper was facing up, Grace threw a curious glance in Leah's direction. "Do you still wanna try it on?"

Releasing her grip on herself, Leah nodded, offering Grace a tentative smile. Still, she was unsure how she'd be able to tell the girl no, regardless of how much the idea - of standing up for her at the wedding, in front of all their friends and family, pretending like she hadn't  _failed_ to be a part of it for years - made her stomach churn.

Still, Leah took a deep breath, pushing everything else out of her mind before pulling her t-shirt over her head without hesitation.

"Ugh...I would kill for curves like yours."

The corner of Leah's mouth lifted in amusement as she lowered her arms, discarding the t-shirt on the arm of the couch. Head catching up a moment later, Leah inwardly scolded herself after catching Grace's wide eyes. She hadn't even thought about it, the careless gesture reminding Leah that Grace might not be used to it. How any sense of modesty or propriety had also taken a leap out Leah's window seven years earlier, and how it still wasn't something she had gained much of back.

"I didn't always have them," Leah murmured, opting to turn her back to Grace as the other woman started unsheathing the dress. "The guys got muscles, and I got...well, this." She motioned toward herself with open palms, unsure of whether Grace was actually watching her.

Glancing out the window, Leah released a breath when she heard Grace giggle. Still, a heavy silence followed and she tried instead to focus on the sounds of movement behind her, attempting to find some decent thought in her head to speak out loud. To ease the silence before Grace could possibly start asking questions.

"So, you said...I  _meant_ a lot to Seth..."

_Way to fucking break the ice, Leah..._

Luckily the other woman couldn't see Leah's disparaging eye roll. Behind her, Grace chuckled instead. "You still  _do_ , Leah...and you did then, even when things weren't so easy," she replied softly, the crinkling of the garment bag not quite enough to mask her words. "When I first met him, when the imprint first happened...things weren't always this easy."

Leah frowned, unsure of where the shift in conversation came from but suddenly wanting to hear more, her fingers stilling on the button of her jeans. "What do you mean?"

Grace bought herself a few moments by drawing in a long, deep breath. "Well...he fought the imprint. Not at first, but eventually, when we both started realizing how strongly we felt about each other and what it would mean...he fought it."

Leah tried to ignore how the words scratched at her insides, how her heart suddenly throbbed beneath them. How each one went against everything she had heard - and  _experienced_ \- when it came to the subject of imprinting.

"But...you  _can't_ fight it," she whispered, pushing the words out between dry lips.

"You're not supposed to be able to," Grace agreed, "but he tried."

Leah took that moment to glance over her shoulder, to find Grace preoccupied with the dress. She wanted to say something but she couldn't, Grace's admission stealing any worthwhile word from her tongue. Instead, she wondered about it, unable to draw her eyes away from Grace, who was focused on smoothing out the short, yellow chiffon dress.

"About three months or so after the imprint happened, he told me he didn't want to see me anymore," she spoke, still not catching Leah's eye. "I didn't understand a single reason behind it, but when I asked him why, do you know what he told me?"

Leah inexplicably held her breath. "What?" she whispered.

Grace finally looked at her, her brown eyes steady and inexplicably warm.

"That he didn't want to be the one responsible for taking away my choices," Grace murmured, the small smile reappearing on her mouth.

The words nearly took away what little air Leah still held in her lungs. Grace didn't have to say it, but buried deep beneath that dull, knowing ache in her gut, Leah knew what it meant. The simple knowledge of what happened to  _her_ was brought forward in a single, swift moment.

She had been on the wrong side of an imprint. She knew what it was like to lose her choice when the person who was supposed to love  _her_ made the choice for her.

When he decided  _not_ to fight it. When he decided not to try.

And Seth knew...what happened because of it. What it caused Leah to do. What path it led her down.

And the way Grace was regarding Leah in that moment, it was clear she knew, too.

"He told you..." The words were thick in Leah's mouth, "didn't he?"

Grace sighed, waiting a single moment before she nodded, adding a quick shrug of her shoulders. "He told me when I showed up outside your mom's door a week after that. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, and I was crying and I'm sure I had snot all over my face." Grace chuckled, trying to ease the heaviness of the conversation while clinging tighter to the dress in her arms. "But I demanded to know why he felt he was justified in telling me to go live my life without him."

She paused, taking a step forward. Both eyebrows lifting, she motioned toward Leah's half-dressed frame. Blinking rapidly, Leah nodded, remembering the task at hand as her fingers moved, sliding the button of her jeans through its clasp before slowly pushing her way out of them.

All the while, Grace kept talking.

"So, yeah, he told me...what happened to you. How you were with Sam when he imprinted on Emily…" Leah closed her eyes, the breeze floating through the window closest to her cooling her skin. She bit down hard on her lower lip, waiting for that residual ache to pass.

Somehow, not missing how it wasn't  _nearly_ as strong as it once was.

Because Leah could still remember a time when that ache had nearly crippled her, and how the moment she was in wasn't even close to that. What it  _could_ be.

It wasn't, and she noticed.

"And, he told me that Emily's face…"

Grace paused, and as the ache in her gut flared, Leah hoped like hell she hadn't spoken too soon.

"He _told me_ ," Grace continued, "that all of it was why you left. And I understood...I could see it in every word he spoke, Leah. I could see it...what he meant about this life and what you guys are and how it can take away choices. Not just for you but for the people around you as well, so I understood...why he felt he needed to fight so hard for mine."

Leah opened her eyes in time to see Grace appear beside her, the lines in her face still soft. Her eyes still warm. Leah searched for it - for any judgment or hatred that maybe Grace had felt toward her at one point in time. She wasn't sure she would blame her, especially knowing it was Leah and the misplaced guilt her brother felt - a sadness Leah put there - that almost cost this girl  _her_ happiness.

Still, Leah saw none.

Grace handed her the dress, and Leah accepted it halfheartedly. "I understood," she repeated, taking a step back as Leah gripped the dress between inexplicably shaky fingers, searching fruitlessly for the bottom hem so she could slip it over her head.

"I told him right then and there, though," the other woman continued, "that  _he was_  my choice, and that it had nothing to do with some ancient wolf magic. Sure, it helped me notice him that first time, and I told him that while even though that may have drawn me to him at first, it had  _nothing_ to do with why I ended up loving him. I told him I loved him because of how kind he is, and how he makes me laugh and how he always puts others before himself. I told him if I lost  _that_ , I'd be losing the most important part of my life."

Grace stepped forward, reaching out for the dress. With a delicate smile, she grasped it between her small fingers, finding the hem with ease before she held it up for Leah to slip into. Leah complied, her movements almost robotic as she let every word Grace told her sink in.

_It had nothing to do with why I ended up loving him..._

It went against everything Leah had allowed herself to believe about imprinting, and she couldn't help but think maybe this was one instance where imprinting did more good than harm. That maybe it was one where imprinting got it  _right_ , because seeing the conviction in Grace's expression and hearing the palpable truth in her words, Leah was having a hard time finding any reason why this girl wasn't  _exactly_ the type of person she could see her brother loving.

Leah opened her eyes as the dress slid over her body. Smoothing the fabric over her frame, she peered down at the garment covering her body. The dress was asymmetrical, hitting in the middle of Leah's thigh in front while it flowed past her knees in the back. Reaching up, Leah adjusted the strap resting around her neck just above where it criss-crossed down her back. She noticed the keyhole opening spanning the area between her breasts, fingers trailing over the silver embellishment on the ruffled waistband just below that. Noticing how soft the color was against her copper skin.

"This is a really pretty dress," Leah whispered, even though in reality, she hated the color yellow. Still, it wasn't something she was going to say. It wasn't something she planned to tell Grace.

Because in that moment, it didn't matter. In that moment, she couldn't bring herself to mind.

Grace made a content noise in her throat. "It fits you perfectly."

Taking a deep breath, Leah lifted her gaze just slightly to find Grace already watching her, a glimmer in her eyes and contentment in her expression. Leah couldn't quite place the slow, tingling sensation working its way through her veins, but she knew it was indicative to the fact she was standing there with her brother's soon-to-be wife.

His soon-to-be wife who knew  _everything_ about Leah. Who knew everything about why she left and why she ran and why it had been so hard to come back. Who knew what it had done to those she left behind.

Yet she was still standing there, smiling at her, like absolutely none of it mattered.

And Leah couldn't bring herself to mind other things. To pay much attention to the inherent, niggling feeling in the back of her mind, trying to make her believe Grace might only be giving her a chance for the sake of Seth. That it might have more to do with him than anything else.

Still, Leah didn't mind, because those thoughts were overshadowed by others. Stronger ones that led Leah to believe that maybe she had a clean slate with this girl. That she might be the only person in the whole of La Push to whom Leah didn't have six years to explain or make up for.

That it might simply be who Grace was. A good person.

A  _forgiving_ person.

"You really love my brother, huh?" Leah whispered before she could stop herself, the corners of her mouth twitching as she fought a smile.

Grace smiled shyly, peering at the floor. "Yeah, I do. More than anything," she replied, "which is why I'm so happy you're here." Grace shifted, stepping behind Leah, her cool fingers suddenly grasping the small zipper at the back of the dress. "Not only because  _I_ was hoping you would be, but I know Seth was, too. I kept  _telling_ him to call you. I even told him I was starting to think you  _weren't_ real, because I was hoping maybe that would get him to call you and ask you to come, but I think he was just scared...that maybe you  _wouldn't_ come, even if he did ask."

Leah held her breath, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as the sound of the zipper moving up filled the single moment of silence. Remembering how, at one point, it had been a very real possibility.

"But, Leah...that day you called him?" Grace continued, her fingers working the clasp just above the small of Leah's back. "He was so happy. That entire day, he was happy in a way I'd  _never_ seen him...ever. A part of him tried not to let it show, I think, but I could tell what it meant to him. You know as well as I do, Leah...probably better, actually, that he's always been such a good person. But before that, it always felt like there was this piece of him that was just...out of place. But after you called him, I couldn't see that small, sad, angry piece of him I swore had always just been a part of who he was. So, yeah...that's how I knew."

Leah released a long breath, soothing breath. "Knew what?" she whispered, the words barely audible.

Leah could feel Grace's fingers straightening the dress straps. "I knew that sometimes, no matter how sad he was because you weren't around, all he really wanted was for you to come back. At least for this, so yeah...obviously, that's another reason I wanted you to come. Because let me tell you, that's the kind of happiness you want to see again."

Leah's gaze lowered toward the floor, offering the thin carpet beneath her feet a reserved smile. The brother Leah remembered allowed her to know exactly what kind of happiness Grace was talking about.

Grace chuckled, and Leah looked up in time to see her take a step back. Grace admired the dress from a short distance, her eyes fixed on the billowing, lightweight fabric as Leah slowly turned to face her. Her rapt gaze swept over the dress, appraising it and the way Leah looked in it, before her head lifted, sparkling eyes finding Leah's.

The other woman took a deep breath, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose with one index finger. "So, long story short...I don't care what you did or what happened. I don't care about any of it, Leah," she said, not quite fighting a smile as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Which also means I would really,  _really_ like it if you would be in the wedding, because without you, something would be missing...and it won't be complete if you're not a part of it, too."

The corner of Leah's mouth twitched again, a smile desperately seeking release, but overshadowed by the way the corner of her eyes suddenly burned. How she couldn't quite explain it as she looked anywhere but Grace's eyes, not really understanding who this girl was or where she'd learned a level of compassion and forgiveness Leah could barely fathom.

But it didn't matter...still...for reasons all her own.

It didn't matter as Leah found herself turning liquid eyes back toward Grace. When she found herself nodding, seemingly unable to comprehend any consequences and any reasons why she shouldn't be a part of their day.

"I'd love to."

Offering her a blinding grin, Grace clasped her hands together, taking a single step forward.

Stopping suddenly, though, at the sound of an opening door.

Grace barely moved, her eyes fighting the urge to pull away even though her grin stayed exactly where it was. For a moment, the other woman peered toward the front entryway before turning those dancing eyes back to Leah, like she knew exactly what was about to happen the moment the door closed.

But Leah had missed it.

Somehow she had missed  _anything_ leading up to the sound of the door. The sound of tires on gravel, of a car door slamming, of an engine still running and another heartbeat just outside the house - she'd missed it all while Grace spoke. While she listened intently, everything else around her inexplicably was lost.

But Leah suddenly remembered where she was. Even though there was no way to possibly forget, she remembered all over again whose living room she was standing in.

The same moment she remembered who had probably just walked through the front door.

"Hey, Gracie, I'm home!"

The voice was distant and still near the door, punctuated by the sound of boots against the hardwood floor.

The tone of the voice - the familiarity - was enough to take Leah's breath away. Heart suddenly pounding, her hands curled into fists at her sides. In a single moment, it confirmed everything she'd already thought, knowing after all the times she imagined what was about to happen - all the times she wanted it despite how hard she worked for years to convince herself it wasn't what she needed - it was about to actually happen.

"Who's car is that out front? It has out-of-state plates…"

Leah wanted to move, but the softness in that voice - in the words he spoke - kept her feet rooted to the floor. Leah wanted to look and see if Grace was still watching her. The other woman hadn't said a word, but instead of glancing at her - instead of hoping she would say something - Leah tried not to get lost in the silence, hanging onto Grace's words from earlier, praying each one would be enough.

_You meant a lot to him, Leah…_

_You still do…_

Hoping if there were ever words to trust and believe, those were it.

Leah let her eyes fall to the floor, every other part of her compensating for what she couldn't bring herself to see, not quite ready for it - for a reaction she still wasn't sure she could face, especially if it didn't go the way she hoped.

Even as heavy footsteps echoed down the length of the hallway, drawing closer to where she and Grace stood.

Leah drew in a breath, holding it in her lungs, her eyes closing when she heard the footsteps stop.

When she heard a stuttering heartbeat followed by a sharp intake of breath.

The silence was deafening, and Leah lost count of how long they stood there, any words - any sound - lost between the seconds that passed. It didn't matter, though, because she could still hear him - his shallow, quick breaths. His rapid heartbeat. She could still tell he was there, his scent traveling across the space between them, his presence there just as tangible as hers. Just as real as Grace's.

A part of her still couldn't look. A part of her wanted to hang onto the single, suspended moment where nothing bad could possibly happen, because silence couldn't hurt like words. It couldn't remind her of the damage she'd done.

She didn't want to look, but she  _had_ to…

Because she could already feel her head lifting. Her eyelids fluttered open before she could think, because they  _needed_ to see. No matter how much she wanted to drag out the moment - no matter how much she wanted to put off the next one - she  _had to look._

And when she did, tentative eyes met wide ones filled with shock. Lips parted in disbelief, disrupting a frozen face.

One Leah hadn't seen in six years but had missed every single day she was away.

Seth stood stoic in the doorway between the front entryway and the living room, eyes huge but still moving, traveling frantically over Leah's frame, trying to confirm what they saw as truth. His inability to move gave Leah another moment. It gave her a handful of seconds to take it all in, to take  _him_ in before he spoke. To see it was indeed her brother from the picture. To confirm he hadn't really changed that much except for the fact he looked more like a man than the kid brother Leah left behind - the one she always loved and protected with unrivaled ferocity, even though he'd never really needed it.

Even though she somehow forgot how to along the way.

She didn't know what to say. As he finally moved, shaking his head back and forth in some kind of stunned disbelief, she wasn't sure what she could do to make him speak either. She wasn't sure if there was anything she  _could_ say that would be enough.

So she did the only thing she could think of in that moment.

She smiled at him. The brightest, warmest, most genuine smile she could possibly manage.

Even though in that moment, it didn't feel the least bit forced. It didn't feel the least bit contrived, even if it  _still_ felt like it wasn't nearly enough.

Leah held her breath as Seth finally took a step forward, as the smallest of sounds escaped his throat. She searched his expression - his eyes - for anything she could use to predict what was coming, but there was nothing.

Until she saw the corners of his mouth twitch.

Until she saw his lips pull into the smallest of smiles.

Until he finally moved.

Leah almost missed it as Seth's stoic frame came to life - as he crossed the distance between them in a few long steps. Still, she watched until she could no longer see him. Until he was directly in front of her and suddenly, a heat similar to her own enveloped her. Until two arms were wrapped tightly around her body, pushing out every bit of air she held inside her when they hugged her tightly against a sturdy chest.

Hanging on, Leah closed her eyes, relief pouring through her veins. An overwhelming gratitude burned behind closed lids, her body relaxing little by little as he held her to him, almost like he had no intentions of letting go now that she was there.

"Jesus, Leah...I…" His voice was choked, uncertain, like he had no idea what to say either. "I just…" His words cut off again, but he still didn't let go.

Eyelids fluttering open, Leah pressed her cheek against his t-shirt. She squeezed him tighter in return.

"I'm here…" was all she could think of to say.

Seth took a deep breath, his hold on Leah finally loosening. "Mom didn't tell me...I got your text this afternoon, but no one told me…" Suddenly, she felt his hands wrap around her shoulders, pushing her back gently. Peering up, Leah saw his eyes were still wide. She watched as he shot a quick, confused glance toward Grace before looking back, even though the bewildered smile still rested on his lips. "Why didn't you call earlier? Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

Holding her breath again, Leah's fingers dug into Seth's arms, a part of her still bracing for what would possibly come. Still preparing herself for the same reaction she received courtesy of their mother. A part of her still waited for that residual anger she knew he held somewhere inside to creep in and sweep the bittersweet moment away.

But it didn't...at least not right away.

Leah shook her head slightly, refusing to think before a simple, honest response tumbled from her lips. "I didn't know… if I  _was_ coming."

Seth blinked rapidly, and Leah couldn't help but notice his grip on her shoulders lessen. She couldn't help but see the smile fade slightly and the surprised light in his eyes darken by just a fraction.

As Leah realized that probably wasn't the answer he'd wanted to hear.

She could feel a thick panic twist around her stomach, crawling up her throat the longer she stood there. The longer she searched his eyes, waiting for the clouds in them to pass. Giving her a moment to see the hope it was clear he'd hung onto the entire time she'd been away.

It gave her a moment to realize that regardless of how much time passed, Seth had never believed she was too far gone to come home for something like his wedding. She could see it - how he believed, even if it was only a little bit, that she would be able to put everything aside, no questions asked, to come home for  _him_ when he absolutely needed her to be there.

That  _not_ showing up would never have been an option.

Which only reinforced for Leah that he still had no idea just how much it took for her to do it, and what she overcame for it to even be possible.

That she would need to tell him before he would fully understand. Before he could forgive her completely.

Releasing her grip on Seth's arms, Leah took a shaky step back, tearing her eyes from her brother. She found Grace standing in the same spot she was before Seth showed up. She watched them both, a single line of moisture cutting a trail down her cheek.

Blinking rapidly, Leah cleared her throat. "Grace, can you give us a minute?"

But as Grace nodded, crossing her arms in front of her chest and taking a step back, Seth made a low noise in his chest that pulled Leah's gaze back to him.

He was staring at the floor when Leah's eyes found him.

"No, Gracie, you can stay," he murmured, peering tentatively behind him to catch his imprint's eyes. Grace froze, eyes bouncing back and forth between Seth and Leah, and Leah tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her gut, the all-too-familiar feeling of defeat scratching at her insides.

Trying to pay no mind to the fact it felt entirely too much like it had when her mother stumbled across her nearly estranged daughter in her kitchen the day before.

Lips parting, Leah looked back to her brother to find him already watching her with heavy eyes. He glanced away the moment her gaze found his.

Leah swallowed thickly. "Seth…"

Seth managed a small smile, and Leah again tried to ignore how she felt her heart sink further into her chest.

"I'd stay, but…" He paused, taking a deep breath and finally managing to meet Leah's gaze. "I actually just came home to change my clothes. I have to go pick up Quil from the shop. We're going to Port Angeles to pick up some stuff for the reception, and you know Quil…" Seth chuckled, anxiously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Keep him waiting for longer than five minutes, he forgets why he was waiting in the first place and finds something else to do."

Leah's mouth was dry when she swallowed, doing her best to offer her brother a resigned nod. Swearing silently to herself, she told herself she should have prepared better. She should have prepared for a reaction like the one she was getting.

Still, she couldn't fight the sinking feeling that there wasn't a fucking thing she would have been able to do to make it easier.

"Seth…" Grace's voice was soft but determined. "I can go with Quil and get the stuff, if you want to stay here with your sister."

Leah glanced back at her brother in time to see him shake his head. "It's okay," he muttered, waiting a moment before lifting his eyes to meet Leah's. "You coming to the bonfire tomorrow?"

Leah drew in a deep, ragged breath. The truth was she hadn't given the bonfire much thought since Embry mentioned it the day before. She knew what it would be like - who all would be there - and she still hadn't decided if it was something she could handle.

But in that moment, staring back at her brother, she knew she didn't have the luxury of a decision. She knew there was only one answer, and at that point, she had to push everything else aside if she was going to prove to Seth that she wanted to be there. That she wanted to be a part of his wedding.

That she wanted to be a part of his life again.

"Yeah," she whispered. "I'll be there."

Seth nodded, offering her another tentative, halfhearted smile, even as he took a step back. Even though Leah had to fight the urge to beg him to stay, to tell him she wanted to fix everything then and there. Even though she wanted to ignore the blatant truth that her arrival had blindsided her brother and that, more than likely, he maybe just needed a moment to swallow it all.

"You could stay for dinner tonight," Grace grasped, her voice pulling Seth's gaze over his shoulder. "You'll be back in time for dinner, right, Seth?"

Seth nodded, but Leah still couldn't dismiss the resignation in his eyes when he looked back to her.

Leah hadn't realized she was holding herself until her grip on her forearms tightened.

"Thanks, Grace, but I actually have plans for dinner tonight," she admitted quietly. Seth's brow arched high above his eyes, and Leah's lips parted, an explanation tumbling from her mouth before she could stop it. "At Jake's. Apparently I couldn't avoid the obligatory interrogation dinner at the Alpha's." She chuckled, even though the noise came out tense and strained.

"Yeah," Seth whispered, eyebrows lowering as he shoved his hands in his pockets. As she swore she saw a flash of understanding, a reserved softness in his eyes. "You should probably go to that."

Leah nodded, her eyes once again focused on the floor. "You're probably right."

She couldn't bring herself to watch as she heard another heavy step on the hardwood floor beneath them. As she heard a soft chuckle deep in Seth's throat, a small part of her wondering what the hell he was possibly laughing at.

"Dress looks nice," he mumbled, and Leah swore she could almost hear a smile in his voice. "Yellow looks good on you, Lee."

Leah pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, unable to ignore the pang of hope she felt deep in her stomach, doing what it could to overshadow the dread and thick regret that had become so commonplace.

Because Seth  _knew_ she hated yellow.

"Thanks," she whispered, glancing up in time to see Seth press his lips together tightly.

Leah's words died in the space between them, and she found her gaze lowering back toward the floor as one moment of thick silence turned into several. Searching her head for  _anything_ to fucking say, nothing seemed good enough the longer she stood there. The more she realized one tiny piece of olive branch amid everything else didn't negate the fact the reunion with Seth was still like the one with her mother in at least one way.

That the absolution and forgiveness Leah craved so desperately from her family wasn't going to happen yet. It wasn't going to happen that night.

Which is why it stole the breath from her lungs when she suddenly saw a pair of feet in her field of vision. When that large, warm hand was back on her shoulder. When she felt herself again be pulled into a pair of steady arms.

Reassuring her - somehow - that even if it wasn't going to happen that night, it  _would_ happen eventually.

That time, Leah didn't hold back the small smile that crept across her mouth when Seth's deep exhale pushed through her hair.

"I'm glad you're here, Leah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Throwing even more apologies your way for the disgustingly huge wait for this update. I was stressing myself out over it - literally, but I think I'm FINALLY back on track. Woot! Many, MANY thanks to you all for your patience.
> 
> Also, super big thank you to bkhchica for pre-reading this chapter for me with a fine-toothed comb - twice - to make sure it DIDN'T sound like 2 1/2 months had passed. Blerg. And another one to ChrissiHR, who graciously agreed to loan her red-pen skills on this story and made her debut this chapter, although any and all mistakes are still mine. *grins*
> 
> Really hope you guys enjoyed! Leave some love! I've been told FFn won't let you leave a review on this chapter if you left one on the teaser (since I deleted that and reposted the whole chapter in its place) so you might have to do it anonymously by logging out first. Still, some kind words will definitely keep me motivated! *wink,wink*
> 
> Can't wait to hear your thoughts. :)


	22. Common Ground

_**Suggested Listening: "Things We Lost In The Fire" by Bastille, "Heavy Feet" by Local Natives, "Don't Save Me" by Haim, _ **"What's Wrong With Me?" by Julia Stone,**_  "Silhouettes" by Of Monsters and Men** _

_**.** _

"You're awfully quiet …"

Blinking rapidly, the daydream Leah was lost in disappeared behind her eyelids. She focused for a moment on the endless pines and forest rushing by the window, finally allowing her head to turn. Looking across the cab of the truck, she met Embry's skeptical ebony eyes, finding him already watching her. Holding her gaze for a moment, he eventually offered her a small smile.

Leah felt a pang of guilt deep in her stomach. They were sitting only a couple feet apart, but she had been a million miles away since depositing herself in Embry's company truck and shutting the door behind her. Actually, it was closer than that, her mind still stuck somewhere inside the four walls of a modest brown house on the other side of La Push.

The second hug Seth gave his sister marked the end of their reunion. Releasing her, he had pulled away quickly, affording her a final, tiny smile. He kissed Grace goodbye and Leah could do nothing but stand there, wanting to say something, but the words died on her tongue when Seth swiftly disappeared from the room. She was frozen, eyes fixed on the place her brother had been standing moments earlier, ignoring how she could feel Grace's eyes burning holes through her. Instead of moving, she listened to the car door close outside and the sound of a revving engine before tires crunched on gravel.

She stayed where she was, wishing there had been more time for words but listening until she could no longer hear her brother's truck. Waiting until she was sure he was at least a mile down the road and heading away from both the house and unspoken explanations.

Away from an apology she knew she had yet to give.

Despite everything, it ended better than she thought it would. He left her with just enough hope to hang onto, somehow reassuring Leah that her presence back home might be something he'd accept. The realization of it sparked a hope inside Leah — filling her, without really waiting for her permission.

It was a hope for which she was grateful.

After thanking Grace, Leah disregarded the other woman's thoughtful brown eyes, allowing her to pack up the dress. Leah changed back into her jeans and t-shirt, and moments later — with the garment bag hanging in the backseat of the crappy rental car — she was on her way back to the hotel, trying to keep her head on straight. Her mind held back her heart, refusing to allow it to run away with that very same hope.

That hope … Leah  _wanted_ to count on it.

Still, even with the final gesture and words Seth offered her, there was a latent doubt beneath it all - a nagging, just close enough to resemble what happened with her mother. Negating everything. Making it easy to remember cutting words from Paul earlier that day, refusing to let her turn a blind eye on it. She couldn't help but think maybe if she tried to explain more than they already knew, they wouldn't understand. That maybe after all those years, the severed relationship she had with her family would finally fracture beyond repair.

That maybe it wouldn't matter how many apologies she spoke.

That it wouldn't matter  _what_ she had to say.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Leah tried to push it from her mind. Closing her eyes for a single moment, she pulled herself together the best she could before opening them, focusing on the first thing she saw.

On the man watching her from across the bench seat.

Remembering that for the next few hours, he would be all she really  _needed_ to focus on … and that was something she could do.

"Sorry," she murmured, trying like hell to offer him a sincere smile. "Was lost in my head there for a second."

The corner of Embry's mouth twitched when he finally turned his gaze back to the road. "I could tell." His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. "So … how did it go at your brother's?"

Leah huffed, a strand of hair hanging over her forehead bouncing from the force of her exhale. She absentmindedly kept her eyes fixed on the muscles in Embry's forearm, watching how they shifted fluidly beneath his skin as he loosened and tightened his grip on the worn vinyl covering the steering wheel. It was some kind of anxious tick he had, and Leah wasn't entirely sure why that moment was the one she noticed it the most.

"Did you know the dresses are yellow?" she offered quietly, trying to keep her voice buoyant. "If we're being completely honest, I think I would have rather worn pink ..."

Embry chuckled "I think Grace mentioned it a time or two, but yeah …"

Leah sighed, smiling anyway when she turned her gaze to the road in front of them. "Oh, well," she murmured. "It's their wedding, not mine, so it doesn't really matter what I think about the colors. And the dresses  _are_ pretty, and …" Leah swallowed thickly, "it sounds like she really loves my brother, so … I'm glad she's been around for him."

There was a moment of silence from the other side of the cab, but Leah didn't miss Embry's amused chortle.

"You going soft on me, Clearwater?"

Leah's amused smile widened in spite of herself, peering at Embry in time to see his raised eyebrow. "Keep thinking that, Call," she bit back goodnaturedly. "It's just … you were right." Her eyes dropped to her lap. "She seems genuine and kind, and I'm just happy for him … imprint or not."

A long moment of silence hung between them as Embry slowed the truck, eventually turning onto a back road that led to the river. Even though Leah knew they were heading to Jacob's, Embry hadn't told her where he and Bella lived. She hadn't asked either, barely able to keep her head where it belonged as it was when Embry picked her up at Oceanside.

"How did it go with Seth?"

Leah took a deep breath, ignoring the way her stomach inexplicably twisted against the question. "How'd you know he showed up?"

It was Embry's turn to sigh. "He came by the shop to pick up Quil a little before five, and he just seemed … distracted." His voice trailed off, the pregnant pause dragging out long enough that Leah felt compelled to look at him, to see what was going on in those eyes. "Kind of like you right now, actually," he continued the moment she met his gaze, the knowing gleam in his eyes prompting her to look away before another second passed.

Leah peered down instead, offering her lap a cynical smile. "Well, let's put it this way … it went a lot better than the reunion with my mother."

"Really?"

Leah had a feeling there was supposed to be surprise in Embry's question, but it wasn't lost on her when she couldn't hear a trace of it. "Yeah. He was … amicable. He didn't throw me a party or anything, but at least he didn't tell me to go to hell."

"Leah," Embry's voice was gentle but cautious, "you know that's not how your mom feels."

Leah chuckled. She glanced up, one caustic eyebrow raised at nothing in particular. "Have you heard my phone ring at all today?"

Glancing at him, Embry's lips parted wordlessly, but he didn't look away from the road. Leah did, however, notice his grip tighten on the steering wheel.

"She'll come around," he murmured, meeting her gaze just long enough for her to see the conviction in his eyes — for her to know at this point, even if was hard for them both to imagine, he truly believed what he was saying. Still, he raised his own eyebrow at her for good measure. " _I_  came around, didn't I?"

Leah rolled her eyes, a grin erupting across her mouth all the same. "You're a special case."

Embry's hearty laugh filled the cab of the truck. "How?"

"Because you're the only person I know who doesn't know when to quit hitting himself with that hammer," Leah responded quickly, still smiling when she met Embry's dancing eyes from across the small space separating them.

Leaning one elbow against the door, the corner of Embry's mouth quirked when he shrugged. "That's because despite what they say, it  _doesn't_ feel nearly as good when I stop."

Even when Embry turned his gaze back to the road, Leah continued to watch him, feeling that warmth she'd become entirely too familiar with, born from the subtle yet tangible affection laced through his words. She could see his eyes fighting the urge to move, wanting to look back, but he didn't. Taking a deep breath as the truck started to slow, she let it out quickly, reaching down and unbuckling her seatbelt. Brushing it to the side, she slid lithely across the bench seat, closing the gap between them.

She didn't miss Embry's smile, and she was sure it matched hers when she turned toward him, reaching up with one hand. Fingers finding his cheek, Leah leaned up, pulling his face toward her at the same time. Needing to feel him, somehow, in that moment. Pressing her lips softly against rough skin, she lingered there, closing her eyes. To take a single second to feel the hint of stubble against her mouth. To inhale a scent that was only so potent when she was that close.

He was still smiling when she pulled away, leaning her forehead against his temple and closing her eyes.

"I'm glad you've never stopped," she whispered.

His long, easy exhale was enough of a response for Leah. She stayed where she was for several moments until she heard the brakes squeal, the truck rolling to a stop. She opened her eyes but she didn't turn her head, not sure she was ready to move even when Embry's hand covered the one she'd placed on his thigh. Releasing another deep breath, he moved first, turning his head and pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead.

"We're here," he reminded her quietly, his breath warm on her skin.

Nodding, Leah finally shifted back in time to catch Embry's gaze, to see him regarding her softly, almost like he didn't want to move either. Like he didn't want to interrupt the quiet moment she'd inadvertently carved out for them after another ridiculously trying day.

Offering him a tiny, coy smile, Leah leaned in once again, leaving a swift kiss on Embry's lips before she slid quickly to the other side of the seat.

"Let's do this," she said with a wry smile, doing what it needed to mask any hesitance she may have felt.

Climbing out of the truck, her smile was gone before Leah gave herself a single moment to smooth the loose cotton shirt she'd changed into. Before she looked up to take in where they were.

"Holy shit … "

She realized first they had parked in a paved driveway, running parallel to one of the most beautiful log homes she'd ever seen. While the cabin itself was modest in size, the first floor was adorned with several wide windows and a covered porch spanning from the door all the way to the far right corner of the house's facade. Letting her gaze wander, Leah appraised the screened-in porch to the left of the door, which wrapped around the left corner of the house and opened up to a wide patio near the back. Eyes venturing up, she noticed a balcony on the second floor, just above the main entrance and facing the expansive lawn. Plants, flowers and Adirondack chairs dotted the covered porch, and it was clear someone had put in the immaculate stone walkway leading to the front door from where Leah stood.

Nestled and secluded among the towering pines, it looked like something off a fucking post card.

The house was  _definitely_ not a piece of La Push Leah remembered.

Releasing a swift breath, Leah's gaped, dumbstruck. "Well … it's clear  _someone's_ been living right since I left."

Embry chuckled, and Leah finally noticed him leaning against the front of the truck.

"Jake actually wanted something bigger, but it was Bella that talked him into this. She thought it was nice, but still modest and cozy." When Leah lifted an incredulous eyebrow in his direction, Embry shrugged. "Her words, not mine." Pushing himself off the truck, he took the few steps needed until he was standing next to Leah, the warmth from his frame reaching out. Wrapping around her the same way it always did. "They figured why buy when you can build? There's enough land for sale out here, so when the garage started doing well and it looked like there was no way we'd ever slip back below profitable, it made the most sense."

Face screwing up concession, Leah nodded, crossing her arms tightly in front of her. "It's a beautiful house," she admitted.

"You should see the inside," Embry countered. "And the garage. It's about twice the size of Billy's … it has an actual floor  _and_  it's air-conditioned." He motioned toward where the driveway branched out into a separate one, curving until it ultimately disappeared behind the house to where Leah guessed the garage was located.

"I'm sure it's hideous," Leah muttered under her breath, trying to ignore the distant gnawing in her gut.

"It'll hurt your eyes," Embry retorted softly, picking up on her irreverence and lightly placing his hand on the small of her back. Chewing anxiously on the inside of her lip, Embry moved closer, his breath pushing through her hair, lips moving against the crown of her head. "Let's go inside."

She had no idea why she was so fucking wound up all the sudden, but there was nothing she could do to stop the gnawing from turning into a nauseous churning as they approached the porch steps. Her eyes assessed everything as they walked, waiting for something —  _anyone_ to pop out from one of the many corners of the house. She tried to prepare herself like she always did, but she couldn't put a finger on the source of her unease. It didn't make sense because Jake had a head start by showing up in Chicago unannounced a month earlier. The worst of it was over, and ultimately she was grateful all the hardest questions had been asked.

Maybe it was the large, foreign house. Maybe it had to do with Bella, whom Leah barely remembered, even though she was sure Jake had filled his wife in on all the blurry details surrounding where Leah had been. What happened to her. What she did to  _herself_.

Whether Bella would understand.

Even if it was completely lost on Leah why the fuck she suddenly cared what the other woman thought.

Taking a deep breath, Leah unconsciously released her grip on herself. Automatically seeking out Embry's hand, trembling fingers curled around his warm ones.

A wave of calm pushed through her veins when she focused on that heat. When she let it soak into her skin, feeling it rush through her veins, encasing her in that overwhelming feeling of safety and protection she could always count on when he touched her. When she touched  _him_.

A moment passed before he squeezed her hand, holding onto it just a little tighter.

It was perfect timing, too, and absolutely necessary because the second Leah's foot hit the first porch step, the front door swung open, a familiar form pushing effortlessly through the screen door.

"Well, look what the wolf dragged back to La Push."

Leah rolled her eyes at the smirk plastered all over Jacob's face as he leaned against the door frame, the tone of his voice ebbing her inexplicable edginess only slightly. Using his foot to hold open the screen door, he folded both arms tightly across his sturdy chest.

Somehow, though, Leah didn't miss Jacob's jovial eyes lower before she could reply, when — as she reached the top of the stairs — his gaze inadvertently landed on where her and Embry's hands were joined.

Chewing awkwardly on the inside of her lip, Leah offered Jacob a wary smile just in time for him to forget about the unintentional show of affection. For him to redirect his eyes and catch her response.

"Kicking and screaming," she replied distractedly, cataloging the heat beside her and keeping it somewhere inside her before she squeezed Embry's hand one last time, forcing her fingers to release his, the fact it took more effort than she expected not entirely lost on her. Shoving her hands in her pockets, the subtle sigh Embry released stabbed at something inside her.

"I can imagine," Jake murmured. If he noticed, he didn't let on, his grin still playing on the corners of his mouth.

Lips parting, Leah was at a loss for what else she was supposed to say, instead ticking off the seconds of silence in her head — the moments Jacob simply stood there, watching her like he still couldn't believe she was there. Fuck, she hated it, the way everyone kept looking at her. It made her feel like some kind of unbelievable stranger, like an alien magically appearing the middle of Millennium Park back in Chicago.

Still, she knew what she signed up for, and even she knew there wasn't much else she could do.

Holding her breath, Leah searched her scattered brain for any kind of words to start this night off on some kind of a decent foot.

Embry, however, beat her to it.

"So, can we come in or you planning to feed us on the front porch?"

Making an amused noise in his throat, Jacob nudged the screen door with his foot, causing it to spring open far enough for him to catch it with his hand. To prop it open and throw a terse nod toward the inside of the house. It was a gesture that almost made Leah feel like they should have known better. Almost like a personal invitation was unnecessary.

Still, Leah didn't move — not until a warm hand returned to her back. Not until it pushed ever so slightly, prompting her to move without a single word.

"Where's Bella?" Embry asked from behind Leah, his footsteps light on the wooden stairs.

"In the kitchen … where she's been for pretty much the past four hours," Jake replied with a lazy shrug of his shoulders, stepping into the entryway and allowing Leah to pass as Embry took the door in his place. "I came home and it was like Top Chef in there."

"How many courses tonight?" Embry chuckled from behind her. Leah kept her eyes on the hardwood floor beneath her, wondering whether she should make a more valiant attempt to inject herself into Embry and Jacob's easy conversation.

Jacob scoffed. "Maybe five … could be six though. Who knows?"

Stepping over the threshold into the front foyer, all thoughts of conversation evaporated when her gaze lifted. Mouth opening in awe, Leah's eyes widened in surprise.

The inside of the house was immaculate. The entryway gave way to an open floor plan, beginning with the living room and the dining room tucked just behind that. Leah let her gaze travel over the massive, stone fireplace and the rustic iron fixtures throughout the house. The windows were open, pushing fresh, salty air through the entire house, mixing enticingly with the smell of cedar and hickory permeating every square inch of space inside of it.

Embry was right … the house was just as beautiful on the inside.

However, Leah still couldn't help but feel a little out of place. It didn't matter that it was Jacob's home — that it belonged to someone she had known since the day he was born. It was new, it was different. It was a foreign piece of space to her, mixed oddly with so many pieces of her past. Taking a deep breath, she couldn't help but think it might have been easier had they just invited her and Embry over to Billy's for a grill out and a fire in the backyard. That's what they used to do. That's what she remembered. That probably would have been easier.

Even if she couldn't explain why the memory was suddenly assaulting her brain. Why she found herself wildly wishing for it.

Leah allowed her eyes to close for a single moment, drawing in a deep breath through her nostrils. Letting the scent of the air surrounding them fill her while picking out the most familiar pieces. The smell of the sea, the pungent aroma of pine.

Focusing on what she knew. Focusing on the scents and the bits of home that somehow, after all this time, still managed to calm her.

However, it mixed with other smells. The heady smell of garlic and onions. The fresh scent of yeast. Apricots, vanilla, and cream. Something else … a rich, natural smell Leah couldn't quite place, mixed with the sweet tones from before. It was muted yet entirely too pungent. It was almost … intoxicating.

She didn't know what it was, but she had a feeling. She made a wild conclusion when her ears picked up on something else, her heightened senses kicking into gear when she least expected them to, just in time for her to hear a faint, distant thrumming. Like a human heartbeat, only faster. Like a hummingbird's wings pushing against thick air.

Blinking, Leah shook her head slightly, overcome by the sudden wave of heat pushing through her, drawing out other instincts she'd long forgotten. An inherent desire to protect, the pull of it drawing her forward. Causing Leah to take a step before she even realized she'd done it.

Hands curling into fists at her sides, Leah blinked again, trying like hell to push the reaction back to where it came from. It took a few moments, but she eventually was able to throw a glance over her shoulder. To find Embry just in time to catch his somewhat pleased gaze as he leaned against the wall beside the window.

She opened her mouth, but her first attempt at words came out as a shocked squeak.

Jacob's chuckle pulled her eyes away from Embry for a split second, in time to see his amusement, before she looked back to Embry. Before the words finally came to her. "Is that …?" Her eyes flicked over her shoulder.

Eyebrows lifting, Embry nodded. "Alpha's heir. You'll get used to that pulling feeling after a while."

From the other side of the living room, Jacob made an acknowledging noise in his throat. "Guess  _nothing_ dulls those instincts, huh?"

Leah's head snapped in Jacob's direction, shooting him a withering glare, well aware of the implication behind his words. Jacob held both hands up in response, as if to fend her off.

"Hey, imagine how it was for these guys," he quipped, nodding toward Embry. "Seven months ago, I practically had to beat them away from Bells with a stick."

Embry groaned. "Dude, it wasn't  _that_ bad," he responded. "Well, unless we're talking about Quil … and maybe Brady and Collin."

Glancing down at the floor, Leah pulled in a deep breath, trying to get a handle on the sudden thrumming in her veins. Unable to stop herself from wondering if  _this_ was where all the anticipant anxiety had stemmed from.

"Don't worry," Jacob cut in, and she heard him take a step in her direction. "Once Bella whips out the three desserts she has planned for tonight, I'm pretty sure you won't be able to smell anything else."

A high, female voice chose that moment to interrupt Leah's inadvertent reverie. Head jerking up, the sound drew her gaze toward the corner of the house just off the dining room.

"I can hear you, you know! This house isn't that big, Jacob Black, and I don't need super-sensitive hearing like you seem to think I do!"

Jacob make a bemused noise in his throat. "You think I'd know that by now, too," he mumbled under his breath.

Stepping to her left, Leah wandered farther into the living room, throwing every ounce of concentration she had toward appraising all the finely crafted details of the home's interior. It gave her a better view of the dining room and how placed in its center on an area rug stood a broad mahogany table. Four chairs were pushed up to it, and it appeared someone had already set it. China place settings rested atop woven placemats, accented by an elaborate floral centerpiece.

_Jesus, Bella really pulled out the big guns …_

Blinking, Leah gathered what wits she could, figuring she'd give conversation a shot. "Since when do you guys ever complain about too much food?"

"Exactly!" the voice from the kitchen sounded again.

Leah wasn't sure how she'd lost track of Embry, but he was suddenly behind her, his presence and the heat from his body overwhelming and comforting in the foreign space.

Jake followed them into the living room. "Bells, honey, our company is here! Why don't you put down the butter, step away from the stove, and come say hello."

"Jacob Ephraim Black, I swear to god ..."

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Leah couldn't help but huff in Jacob's general direction, leaning against the back of one of the sturdy, dining room chairs. "No wonder you end up sleeping at the shop half the time," she muttered, "since you clearly enjoy poking the very hormonal bear."

From a few paces behind her, Embry snickered as Leah looked in time to see Jacob's shoulders halfway through another acknowledging shrug. A moment later, though, his face screwed up, the space between his brows puckering in annoyance. Jacob turned the expression on Embry. "What I said to you in Chicago about being able to keep secrets better than I thought you could? ... I take it back."

Embry grinned, his mouth opening to reply before he was promptly interrupted.

"Who's got a secret?"

Three sets of eyes swiveled back toward the kitchen just in time to see Bella Swan — or Bella Black now, Leah figured — emerge from it. Although Leah didn't have much of a recollection of the woman, upon first glance, she could tell Bella hadn't changed all that much. Padding into the living room on bare feet, Leah let her eyes rake unabashedly over the other woman's frame. Bella was still tiny, short, and pale. Her chestnut hair fell over her shoulders in loose curls, some slightly astray from the lingering humidity in the air, and her cheeks stained crimson. She had changed a  _little_ , though. One final sweep over the other woman's small body and Leah could tell the years had done Bella well, most of the awkward teenage gangliness she could remember turning into the subtle, soft curves of a woman.

But the biggest change — and the most obvious one — was her massive belly, which strained against the thin material of her apron.

And being this close, Leah could hear the hummingbird's wings again. The potent scent radiating from the woman in front of her invaded Leah's nostrils, prompting her once again to move. To be closer, the inherent connection between her and the unborn baby in Bella's womb overwhelmingly palpable.

And it was enough to scare the shit out of Leah, remembering what Jacob had said about  _nothing_ being able to dull those instincts. To sever those bonds …

Despite how much time had passed.

Still, Leah gulped a lungful of air through her mouth, planting her feet firmly on the hardwood floor.

Connection or not, it wasn't who she was … not anymore.

"Embry," Jacob piped up from his place on the opposite side of the room, his response to Bella's question causing Leah to start. "He's horrible at keeping them."

Leah ventured a peek over her shoulder in time to catch Embry roll his eyes. "Or you just have a big mouth that likes to get you into trouble," he retorted. "Whichever."

Cocking one knowing eyebrow, the corner of Bella's mouth turned up in a wry sort of half-grin as she eyed her husband, one hand absentmindedly finding her hip. "I'm putting my money on what he said," she replied benevolently, nodding toward Embry.

"Yeah, yeah," Jacob stifled a chuckle, hiding it with a petulant pout. "You always take his side."

"That's because I'm nicer than you," Embry replied quickly.

"But unfortunately not better looking."

"Your own inflated opinion of yourself doesn't count, Jake."

"Hey, the only thing that's inflated here is …"

Bella's eyes widened exponentially as the words left Jacob's mouth.

Still, Leah hadn't even realized she'd opened her mouth until her voice was interrupting Jacob. Before he could dig himself into another hole, the words were tumbling from her lips.

"And there you go again. You know, if I were Bella, I'd make you sleep out in the backyard where you belong."

Leah had no fucking idea why she suddenly felt her ears catch fire. Everyone was watching her, but it only took her another moment to realize maybe she hadn't overstepped any boundaries. A tiny, miniscule part of her slightly relieved when Bella glanced at her, letting her eyes linger for longer than a moment. When Embry, who was now standing between the two women, took a deep, relaxed breath.

Both of them were smiling.

"Couldn't agree with you more, Leah," Bella finally murmured, releasing a full smile directed toward the other woman, the gesture withering fast when Bella shot a warning glare toward her husband.

"And that's my cue!" Jacob exclaimed, clapping his hands together theatrically. "It's been fun, but I am going to go hideout in the garage until dinner." His gaze flicked between Leah and his wife before settling on Embry. "You coming? I got the drive shaft for the Chevelle when I was in Port A this afternoon."

Embry groaned. "Dude, we spend all fucking day working on cars and you want me to help you work on one now?"

Jake threw his hands up, despondent. "Well, it's either that or stay here and help Bella cook."

Embry's lips parted, and Leah couldn't help but crack a smile as a flicker of contemplation flashed across his face. Like he was  _actually_ considering cooking over cars.

It wasn't lost on Jacob either.

"Fine," Jacob retorted, a laugh pushing from his throat anyway. "Stay in here. Your vagina will fit in quite nicely."

Embry rolled his eyes, shoving his hands in his pockets as Jacob crossed the living room, approaching the three of them. He glared at Embry, even though Leah could see the jovial sparkle in his eyes as he reached Bella. Stooping down the good foot and a half it took to reach her, he landed a quick, soft kiss on her lips. Leah pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, tightening her grip on herself as both of Embry's eyebrows shot up in amusement the moment Jacob released his wife, turned his back on the three of them, and stalked toward the front door.

As soon as Jacob reached the threshold, he turned, eyeing Embry expectantly. "You coming or not?"

One eyebrow stayed where it was as Embry let out a long, languid sigh. Still, he didn't answer, and Leah wasn't sure why her stomach twisted in a weirdly pleasant way when he turned his head, peering at her from beneath those long, dark lashes.

"You'll be okay in here if I go?"

Leah started to nod, not sure how much harm one obscenely pregnant yet tiny woman could do to her, but Bella laughed before Leah could properly respond.

"Give me a little credit, Em," she said quietly, offering Leah a smile when their eyes met. "She can help me make the bruschetta."

Frowning, Leah's mind drifted for a split second, trying to think back to her cooking classes to retrieve  _any_ recollection of a lesson including  _that_. Even when Embry chuckled, taking a step in her direction, she was unable to pull her concentration away from the how-tos on sauteing vegetables and roasting beef.

Suddenly, one index finger was beneath her chin, prompting it up. Pulling her from her pointless thoughts and urging her to pay attention when he lifted his eyebrows, waiting to hear the answer from her mouth.

Blinking rapidly to clear her head, Leah focused on the man in front of her, offering him a tepid yet reassuring smile. "I'll be fine," she whispered.

He smiled back - that soft, affectionate smile laced with a million words he never had to say just before his thumb brushed across the cleft of her chin. Before he leaned down, his warm breath spilling over her mouth, washing away the fact they had an audience as he gently pressed his lips to hers. Lingering a moment too long for the kiss to be considered chaste.

Still, when he pulled away, Leah kept her eyes closed, licking her lips and only opening her eyes in time to see Embry disappear out the front door.

Pulling in a deep breath, she heard Bella shift behind her. The movement was too slow and drawn-out, almost like she was trying to get Leah's attention before she actually spoke a word.

She waited for it … the questions, realizing what just happened in front of Bella. She waited for anything that had less to do with dinner and cars and Jacob's big mouth, and more to do with the fact  _Embry's_ mouth had just been on hers in front of Bella Swan.

And Leah would have been lying if she said it didn't surprise her when those questions — any comments she anticipated — never came.

"You know, I used to complain that Jacob spent too much time out in the garage, but honestly, this whole pregnancy has made me a little thankful for it," Bella spoke up. "It probably saves him from getting a broom to the head some days."

A tiny, ironic smile crossed Leah's lips before she slowly turned to face Bella. "I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that he really  _hasn't_ grown up, despite the Alpha thing."

Bella's features were soft, pensive, when Leah was finally able to see her. "He's business when he needs to be, but at home and around the pack, yeah … he's the same old goofy Jacob he was at sixteen."

Thinking back to their accidental meeting in Chicago, Leah knew Bella was right … about him knowing when he could be Jacob and knowing when he needed to be, for all intents and purposes, an Alpha. A leader, and Leah knew she didn't have to look much further for proof than that night.

Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Leah's mind was suddenly far from Jacob as she tried to read Bella's gaze, catching herself in the same predicament she had been minutes earlier when Jacob stepped out onto the front porch. Hoping like hell maybe Bella would save her and just keep talking.

Bella waited too long, and Leah suddenly found herself scrambling to fill the silence.

"Um …" she stammered, hooking her thumbs in the pockets of her jeans. "I don't know if you remember me …"

Bella smiled, her hand moving from her hip, coming to a rest on the swell of her belly. "Of course I remember you, Leah. How could I forget?"

Nodding, Leah found herself returning the smile. "I just wasn't sure …"

"I remember," Bella assured. "Granted, there wasn't much going on outside myself back in those days, but I remember. Even if I spent most of my time with Jacob, I considered all of you family long before you actually were."

The words surprised Leah, conflicting with her memory of the woman in front of her. Of the young, flighty teenager Leah remembered. The one she silently believed was only using Jacob to fill some void in her life. The one she believed would only hurt him in the end, when everything was said in done.

Clearly, though, things hadn't happened that way, and Leah figured she was going to have to get to know Bella all over again. That she was going to have to come up with some new conclusions.

Nodding behind her — a silent request prompting Leah to follow her — Bella turned, shuffling back into the kitchen as she spoke. "Contrary to what the guys were telling you, I do not have six or even five courses planned for tonight. Granted, it's not as simple as macaroni and cheese and hot dogs, but I think you'll like it."

Leah stopped in the space separating the kitchen and the dining room, leaning against the bar to her left, fingertips absentmindedly trailing the granite countertop. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do, so she opted to watch Bella drift around the kitchen, first peering in the oven to check some kind of casserole she was baking inside of what appeared to be an industrial-grade stove.

Turning from the appliance, Bella faced Leah, keeping both eyes on her as she moved fluidly toward the tall cabinet next to the refrigerator. She stopped, fingers curling around the cabinet handle, lifting both eyebrows in question. "Can I get you a glass of wine or something?"

Huffing a huge sigh, Leah took a step away from the bar. Crossing her arms tightly in front of her chest before offering Bella an ironic smile, it didn't stop her from appreciating the offer in a weird kind of way.

"You got anything stronger?"

Grinning, Bella's amused chuckle was enough to lessen the tension a little more. Opening the cabinet door, Bella lowered herself into a precarious crouch, moving around items on a shelf Leah couldn't see. A moment later, she stood, a bottle clasped in each hand.

"Pick your poison," she smiled triumphantly.

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth to keep her smile in check, Leah took a step forward, snagging the bottle of Johnnie Walker from Bella's left hand.

"Ugh," Bella groaned goodnaturedly as Leah moved toward the counter next to the stove. "I give you credit for being able to drink that stuff. Never did like it much, but then again … I'm kind of a lightweight."

Opening the cupboard door, Leah got lucky when she found the dishes on the first try. "It's an acquired taste," she admitted, pulling a small, glass tumbler from its shelf. With a flick of her wrist, she removed the cap from the bottle, the clink of glass on glass piercing through the thick silence as she poured herself more than a shot of the liquor.

Lifting the glass and sloshing its contents around once for good measure, Leah exhaled sharply. "Now, if only it did what it was supposed to," she lamented, pausing for a single moment to let the whiskey settle before she brought the glass up, tipping it back and swallowing it in a single gulp.

Pouring herself one more, Leah turned, reaching back with her free hand to grip the countertop. "Can I help with anything?" she offered.

"Sure." Bella moved to the refrigerator, opening the door and pulling out a metal colander filled with freshly-washed tomatoes. Walking to where Leah stood, she stopped next to her, depositing the colander on the counter before retrieving a knife from the block next to the stove. Leah let herself gaze forlornly at the tomatoes, missing it when Bella found a cutting board, only realizing it when she placed both on the counter.

"Can you slice these for me?"

Nodding robotically, Leah peered into the amber contents of her glass, swallowing it as quickly as the first.

Once Bella had moved to the other side of the stove, Leah turned before she could see what the other woman was doing. Pushing her glass to the back of the counter, she reached into the colander, retrieving the tomatoes one by one. She lined them up on the cutting board, being a little too meticulous and spending a little too much time on doing it before she finally chose one.

With a tomato in hand and a knife in the other, Leah once again decided to attempt conversation as she made the first slice.

"So, when is the baby due?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer to the question.

"October sixteenth," Bella replied without missing a beat. Leah could hear her moving around behind her, the crinkling of foil loud in Leah's ears. "Only about six more weeks."

Nodding forlornly, Leah slowly made another slice in the tomato, carefully pushing the pieces off to one side. Inwardly thankful she at least had this to keep her occupied while she pretended small talk was something she was good at.

"Not too much longer then," she offered. "I bet you'll be relieved once the day finally comes."

Bella chuckled. "You have no idea," she responded. "Don't get me wrong, pregnancy is just … an experience I can't even describe, but I will definitely be glad. I'm so excited to meet him, and I know everyone else is, too." She released a light laugh again, clearly amused by something only she knew. "It's not so bad anymore, but you shoulda seen everyone when they first found out I was pregnant. Being the Alpha's mate, I thought they were protective  _before_ … clearly, though, I had no idea."

Leah was immediately taken back to minutes earlier, standing in the dining room. Remembering what exactly Bella was talking about because she had felt it herself. For a split second, as the scent of the life growing inside Bella mixing with hers collected in Leah's veins, drawing out those instincts she never knew she had.

"Yeah," she whispered, not sure if she was willing to put a voice to it. To tell Bella that, for a single moment, she had understood. "It's definitely something else."

As silence descended on the kitchen, Leah paused in her task, peeking over her shoulder to see Bella arranging small, rounded slices of bread on the stove's grill, dousing each one in olive oil as she did. Just before she glanced away, Bella peered up, a quizzical look in her eyes.

Leah froze. For a second, she felt like she couldn't move. Almost like whatever this small woman was going to ask her, Leah was obligated to answer it.

Bella's eyebrows lifted pensively. "Do you still phase?"

Lips parting, Leah suddenly got rid of whatever it was holding her in place, immediately dropping her gaze to the floor beneath them. Sucking in a deep breath, she turned back to the counter, focusing on the tomatoes. Watching how the juice collected in small pools.

Shaking her head, Leah reached for a second tomato.

"No, I don't."

"Oh," Bella murmured, and her voice seemed farther away. "I wasn't sure."

Leah made the first slice into the second tomato, the knife clicking loudly against the cutting board. "Jacob didn't tell you?"

"Not everything, no," Bella admitted, her words punctuated by the sizzle of oil on the grill. "I wondered how you'd react when you got here. When you saw me … like this, for the first time. I don't know … I guess I just figured with how long it's been and how long you've been away, that maybe you become a little  _less_ werewolf after a while, you know? It just made me curious, especially after you made that comment about the whiskey."

"Nope, it hasn't really gone away," Leah replied, her voice lowering, her cuts into the tomato slowing. Not really wanting to talk about it, she felt compelled to answer all the same. "In fact, I'm not sure it ever will. The instincts, the abilities — they're all still there. So is the urge to phase, every once in a while."

The lack of movement behind Leah grabbed her attention more than anything else.

"Isn't it hard for you?" Bella's voice was a concerned whisper, thick with a tangible curiosity.

Leah stopped what she was doing, her eyes inherently closing, breath hitching in her chest for a single second.

 _What was she supposed to say to_ that _?_

_Yes, Bella, it's been hard for me. Some days, when it was really bad, I felt like my heart would pound its way from my chest and my bones would break inside my skin if I didn't just let it go. If I didn't surrender to what my body instinctively wanted. Some days, it felt like I was on fucking fire._

_But it's the price I had to pay to make sure everything in my life was_ my  _choice._

 _That_ I  _was the one in control of it._

Still, Leah swallowed past the inexplicable knot in her throat.

"What do you mean?" she breathed.

Bella released a deep breath, and Leah could hear her heart quicken as she held it. "Leah, forgive me if I step out of place with this, it's just … wasn't it hard for you to be in Chicago, all by yourself, for so long? I mean, if you still had everything inside you that makes you what you are, you must have also been incredibly lonely while you were there. Wolves are pack creatures. They thrive in packs. They do best in packs. That bond … I see it every single day, and even more now that I'm pregnant, but … you were by yourself. I can't imagine …"

"No," Leah interrupted tersely, "you can't." She hadn't really asked for sympathy, and she certainly didn't want it. Not from someone who truly —  _genetically_ — had no idea what that life was like. Not from someone who had only ever witnessed it, but had never  _actually_ experienced it.

It sounded callous, but it didn't matter …

And Leah didn't understand why it mattered to Bella.

"I'm sorry, Leah," Bella apologized softly , "I don't want to upset you. I know how hard it must've been for you to come back here, after everything. To  _face_ everything. It's just … "

Heaving a heavy sigh, Leah couldn't stay where she was. The entire conversation was already running off the rails, and it had nothing to do with why Leah had agreed to the dinner. Dropping the knife against the cutting board, she turned swiftly. Bella was standing in front of the grill, and Leah didn't miss how the other woman's eyes widened slightly the moment their gazes met. The moment Bella saw the agitation Leah knew had to be in hers.

"Spit it out, Bella," Leah demanded, her voice somehow steady and calm when she said it.

Bella's mouth opened, a moment passing before her tongue peeked out to wet her lips. Pulling her bottom one between her teeth, she let it go a second later, letting out a long breath with it.

"Can I … can I ask what's going on with you and Embry?"

_Spoke too fucking soon …_

And suddenly, Leah was entirely too grateful she'd taken the whiskey when it was offered to her.

Leah hadn't realized she reached back to grasp the countertop until she felt her grip tightening around it. She immediately had to rein herself in, knowing there was a good chance she could bust the countertop if she squeezed it any harder.

It was none of Bella's fucking business. It was none of  _anybody's_ business.

But the way Bella was looking at her — like she already had some kind of knowledge on what was happening, like she already had an idea, like she really  _did_ give a fuck — made Leah's stomach wrench viciously.

Still, she wasn't sure it was a question she wanted to respond to since she wasn't entirely clear of the answer herself.

Closing her eyes, Leah released a slow, steady breath. "You can," she murmured, somehow loosening her grip on the counter, "but it's not what you think."

Leah swore she could hear Bella's anxious swallow from across the kitchen. However, Leah knew that question had only opened up the floor for others. Letting her eyelids flutter open, the concerned frown on Bella's lips did everything  _but_ tell Leah exactly what she thought of it.

However, Leah had a feeling that was  _exactly_ what the other woman planned to do.

"I'll admit," Bella murmured, shifting her body just enough so she was facing the grill. Reaching for a pair of tongs as her lips parted to finish what she planned to say. "There's a part of me that's hoping it's  _not_ what I think …"

Bella's words cut off, unsure of whether she should actually speak them.

Leah was just masochistic enough to prompt her for the rest.

"And what's that?"

Bella took a deep breath, pushing the tongs beneath the first slice of grilled bread, removing it from the appliance before placing it on a wax paper-lined cookie sheet. "Well, I'm hoping he was  _just_ in the right place at the right time when he went to Chicago. I'm hoping he stuck around and helped you because he's your pack brother and that's what he's supposed to do." Bella paused, and Leah found herself holding her breath, each of Bella's false hopes pricking at something deep inside her. "And I was hoping the way his eyes shine every single time he looks at you is something born out of respect and admiration, but...that's what I  _hope_ , not what I think. They're not really the same. Not unless ..."

Each word stole the breath from Leah's lungs, the admittance as a whole rendering her completely speechless. Still, she could feel that subtle thrumming in her veins, one born from a deep, subtle anger. The start of that very urge she had just imagined in her head as a silent response to one of Bella's earlier questions. Born from a part of her that took the other woman's words and interpreted them in way Leah  _knew_ she probably didn't mean them.

But she had to know for sure.

She  _had to._

"Not unless  _what_?"

Bella continued to remove the slices of bread from the grill, pretending to be lost in the task, but Leah didn't miss how the woman's hands trembled just enough to be noticeable. She swallowed hard before she continued, her throat constricting against the movement. "Embry told me you were up for a promotion at your job …"

Blinking rapidly, Leah released her grip on the counter, folding her arms across her chest instead, the tomatoes long forgotten. "I am," she answered. "I haven't accepted it yet though."

Bella finally glanced at her, one inquisitive eyebrow raised. "Not the kind of promotion you were hoping for?"

Leah frowned, poised to offer a rebuttal to whatever theory Bella came up with, but she couldn't find a single word. Truth was, she hadn't thought about the promotion once since she'd stepped off that plane at Sea-Tac. Not one fucking time, even though she knew she only had a matter of days. Even though she had no explanation — for Bella or herself — to justify why, after a month, she had yet to make what should have been the easiest decision of her life.

Wincing, Leah shook her head in disagreement, the words tumbling from her mouth before she could stop them. "It's  _exactly_ what I was hoping for. I just … didn't want to rush into a decision."

Bella's eyebrow stayed where it was, but she offered Leah a tiny, perceptive smile. "Or maybe you weren't sure you'd be around to take it."

It wasn't a question.

Leah's grip around herself tightened.

"What are you getting at, Bella?"

That time, Bella took a moment, placing the tongs next to the tray of bread slices. Leaning forward, the curve of her belly brushed the edge of the counter even as she gripped it. As she waited — one, two, three seconds — before taking a step back. Before she turned, facing Leah, letting that smile rest on the corners of her mouth.

Leah suddenly couldn't breathe.

"He won't leave here, Leah," Bella whispered. "Embry, I mean. Not because he's not able to, but he doesn't  _want_ to. He belongs here, with his family. He's talked to me about it a little. He never said  _that_ , but I can see it, you know… all the things he keeps to himself. He hasn't been the same since he came back from Chicago." Bella took a step forward, and even though Leah contemplated taking her own step back, she was trapped by the counter.

It didn't matter. She was pretty sure she wouldn't have been able to fucking move anyway.

"He's been torn," Bella continued, "between here and something else. He's torn and … waiting. Waiting for what, I'm not sure, but I'm willing to bet it has something to do with you. For you to stay, for you to leave again … I don't know."

Jesus, the way she said it — the implication behind her words — was enough for Leah to feel like someone punched her in the stomach. She knew — she fucking  _knew_ it hadn't been easy on Embry. It  _couldn't_ have been easy on him, because it hadn't been easy on her either. To be in Chicago after he was, after he went back to La Push. To feel that hole inside her, to experience a longing she hadn't felt in years, and to realize what it was that both filled and satisfied it.

To realize what that  _meant_.

Even if she refused to acknowledge it. Even if she refused to talk about it.

"Bella…" Leah somehow managed to release her grip on herself. She somehow managed to take a step forward, a part of her feeling like she needed to make Bella understand. "I didn't come back here for him...he  _knows_ that. I can't  _give him_  that." The words were heavy on her tongue, but Leah took a deep breath, answering Bella the only way she knew how. "He knows how  _I_ feel."

Leah searched Bella's eyes and saw nothing. Nothing but a flicker of sadness she hadn't anticipated.

"What about how  _he_ feels?" she whispered.

Leah felt a pang of something beneath the ache in her gut, bringing back a whole new wave of memories. One in particular pushed its way unforgivingly to the front, memories of that night sitting on the Chicago sea wall just before the fireworks, when she had looked into Embry's eyes and was able to see exactly what he wanted and what she refused to acknowledge. To see words he wanted to say. Words she refused to let him speak. Eyes filled with questions he needed to ask but was unable to give a voice.

Questions like the one  _Bella_ asked.

Questions Leah couldn't answer. Ones she already  _knew_ the answers to. Answers she  _still_ refused to acknowledge.

"I haven't made him a single promise," Leah pushed on, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice. Fueled by an inexplicable urgency to make Bella understand. "I  _can't_ make him any promises. Promises don't mean a fucking thing in my life. Not anymore."

Bella's unsatisfied sigh grated at something inside Leah, irritating her despite how she tried not to let it. She didn't know Bella that well; however, Leah wasn't daft enough to  _not_ recognize the questions had less to do with her and more to do with Embry. Someone who had been there — in La Push, everyday — with her and with everyone else for the past six years.

Someone who, after everything he'd given Leah, Bella thought deserved more than what she was giving him in return.

Leah couldn't blame her. Even she could see what Bella was doing … finally. Why she was pushing it. Why it mattered to her, so thinly veiled by the concern in her voice.

She was the Alpha's mate, and she was simply trying to protect someone she cared about. Someone she loved.

She was trying to protect her  _pack_.

Leah dropped her gaze, unable to hold Bella's a second longer. Turning, she pushed herself against the counter, reaching for the knife. Pulling the third tomato toward her, she tried like hell to focus on the mundane task, hoping Bella might leave it alone. Hoping she'd leave the conversation at that.

She didn't.

"But you came back."

Sucking in a lungful of air, Leah tried to brush it off, robotically working the knife into the flesh of the tomato. "Seth's getting married."

Bella moved behind her, her scent drawing nearer as one footstep, followed by another, drew her closer. "I don't think that's the only reason," she insisted. "I think you had a lot of reasons. Like I said, Embry's talked to me … probably more so than anyone else, even Jacob, because no one can get inside my mind to see everything. Seth's getting married, but from what Em's told me … maybe you missed your family. Maybe you missed La Push. Maybe you missed all the good parts about this place, and maybe … " She paused, and Leah tried to pretend like she couldn't see Bella approach the counter out of the corner of her eye. To pretend like she wasn't standing next to her. "Maybe you needed to come back for more than just other people. Maybe you needed to come back because you stayed away too long and the entire time you were away, you were missing a piece of yourself. You were missing what truly mattered to you."

Leah offered the counter an ironic smile. "You think you know all this about me, Bella, but you don't. You don't …"

"I do, actually," Bella interrupted. "I've been in your shoes. I know what it feels like."

The knife in Leah's hand paused for a moment, and all she could do was stare holes through it, suddenly grasping for meaning behind Bella's words. She tried to remember — tried to put her finger on why the other woman felt like she understood what it was Leah had faced. Why she felt she knew so much about what happened to her and why she was in La Push.

It came to her, little by little, remembering a conversation she'd had with Embry not that long before, when both of them were standing side by side that day in the observatory, overlooking the city beneath them.

Embry's voice suddenly clear in her head …

_Bella applied for a lot of colleges the year after she graduated, after you were gone. All of them pretty far away from Washington. She'd go visit them but they were never right, you know? Something always kept her from sending the papers back and actually enrolling in classes. Something always brought her back. It took her a long time to realize what it was … or who it was, but she did. Eventually._

_She just realized where her life was meant to be. She realized where she was better, and it just happened to be the same place she was the whole time._

His words, coupled with what Leah already knew about Bella — how she had been left by someone who claimed to love her, and how it started her down a selfish, dark, self-destructive path — suddenly made a little more sense.

It was enough for Leah to realize she and Bella Swan had more in common than she ever would have imagined.

All the breath left Leah's lungs as Bella's words — her questions — started to make a little more sense.

_She was trying to protect her pack …_

Because to Bella, her pack  _still_ included Leah.

Chewing anxiously on her bottom lip, Leah could feel the traces of irritation inside her inexplicably ebbing, a wave of peace — of calm — suddenly pushing through her veins.

"I get what you're saying, I do," Leah breathed. "I understand where you're coming from, Bella, but that's the thing. I don't know if I am better here, even if at one time, I used to be."

"I know," Bella murmured sincerely, "but if you can put the bad memories aside, if you can make peace with them and put it behind you, I think it might feel different. If you're here, you  _have_ to be stronger than the person who let herself believe she could never set foot on these lands again." Bella made a soft noise in her throat, like she was remembering something. "Jake was so happy to hear you were coming back. He wanted to tell everyone, but Embry made him promise not to. I think, though, if you give them a little bit of time, they'll all be just as happy as Jake was. I think, if you give it some time, you might see all of it for yourself."

Leah hadn't anticipated it. She hadn't expected words like this to come from the person standing next to her. In fact, it was the last person she'd expected to give a shit about her. To give a shit about what might happen to her in the days coming, even if Leah wasn't entirely sure that in the long run, it would make a bit of difference when it came to getting on that plane back to Chicago the following Tuesday.

"How do you know?"

The words, quiet and laced with a searing vulnerability, left Leah's mouth before she could hold them in.

"Jake's told me," Bella replied. "You held them together, Leah...whether you knew it or not. They respected you, in an instinctual way. You're the only one of your kind, and that did something to their dynamic — something they've missed since you left. It hasn't been easy for them, just like I'm sure it hasn't been easy on you."

Closing her eyes, Leah pressed her lips into a thin line, remembering what Jake said about the hole in their lives. About the one she'd felt in hers. Holding it up against what Bella said about loneliness — against her own recollection of it — she could pinpoint the exact moment she stopped being lonely and how it got better, little by little, everyday after that.

What had filled it …

_What it meant._

"I see it more in Embry, though, than anyone else," Bella continued, still next to her even though her voice suddenly sounded a million miles away, fighting for space inside Leah's head, her brain filled with a million different things, each one fighting for dominance. "Especially these last few weeks. I know what you've been through, I do. You're a part of our family, Leah. You always will be, no matter what, but he's my friend, Leah, and I love him like he was my own brother… and I just don't want to see him get hurt. I don't want  _you_ to get hurt, any more than you already have been. I hope you understand."

Leah took a deep breath, a single thought pushing its way to the surface. The truth in it obliterating all the others.

"I don't want to hurt him either."

She meant it with everything inside her, but she also knew the words were not a guarantee. She knew just how easily she  _could_ hurt him — that he could hurt  _her_ — and if she had an ounce of sense in her head, she would have set him straight the night before he left Chicago. She would have ended whatever it was they had between them.

But she couldn't.

Not then.

Not now.

Because if there was one thing of which Leah could be certain, she was still selfish and stupid enough to refuse to let go. To put a stop to any of it.

She needed Embry, in a way she couldn't fucking grasp. In a way she couldn't  _stop_.

Bella released a huge breath beside her, though, effectively ending the conversation before she spoke another word. She backed away from the counter, her frame disappearing from Leah's peripheral vision. Moving, despite how Leah had yet to take a breath.

"So, let's talk about something else. I want to know all about what it's like living in Chicago."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm ... seems Leah found a surprising friend / devil's advocate in Bella. Or maybe not so surprising?
> 
> As always, big shout-out to bkhchica for making sure I didn't just vomit words on a page, and to ChrissiHR for cleaning those words up. :)
> 
> Thoughts?


	23. Confront

_**Suggested Listening: "The Gilded Hand" by Radical Face, "Stranger" by Katie Costello, "Skull & Bones" by A.A. Bondy, "Over The Love" by Florence + The Machine, "Wicked Games" by The Weeknd** _

.

"So, I'm glad you decided to take us up on the dinner invitation…"

Jake's voice interrupted the sound of their footsteps on the wooden porch. It was close to nine p.m. and only a few minutes earlier, after two hours of food, wine, and even a few laughs, Embry's ebony eyes had found hers from across the dining room table. One eyebrow lifting in question, he only lowered it when she finally offered him an affirming nod and a soft smile.

"S'pose we should get going," Embry had announced quietly, pushing his chair back from the table. "We all have a pretty long day tomorrow."

Leah only sighed, a part of her wondering how the next day could possibly be any longer than the day she still hadn't completely made it through.

Before they even sat down for dinner, Bella's curiosity about Leah's time in Chicago marked the end of any conversations Leah may have classified as  _unwelcome_. She threw what little focus she had into finishing her task in the kitchen, diligently answering Bella's friendly questions about college, her job, her apartment, her friends. Leah told Bella about Autumn, and in turn, Bella talked about her job at the library in Forks, one she said she couldn't imagine giving up, even if she didn't need to work due to the success of the garage. She told Leah Jacob had mentioned once that she consider quitting after the baby was born, but Bella shut him down quickly.

"I love Jacob, and I know I'm gonna love being a mom," Bella had said with a chuckle, "but I'm not gonna be the Alpha's mate everyone seems to want me to be. I'm not gonna be the one who stays home, barefoot and pregnant, feeding the pack and popping out puppies every year."

Jacob and Embry eventually returned from the garage, walking into an elaborately set table adorned with a spread of food comparable to those Leah had seen in the expensive Chicago restaurants to which she often took clients. For the first ten minutes or so, Embry watched Leah like a hawk, and she tried to ignore it. She smiled at him, and she tried to pretend like the moment she did, Bella's words from earlier  _didn't_ immediately push to the front of her mind.

_I just don't want to see him get hurt …_

The smile she offered was the end of it, and overall, dinner went smoothly. Still, despite the ease of any following conversation and how comfortable it felt sitting around a table with Embry, Jacob, and Bella, Leah couldn't deny how bits and pieces of Bella's words from earlier continued to assault her mind. It didn't matter how hard she tried to focus, or how many times she smiled or nodded or offered a few words to the steady conversation or small talk flowing at the table.

A larger part of her wanted to be pissed at Bella for it — for inadvertently casting a cloud on what should have been a peaceful night, but she couldn't. She  _couldn't_ be pissed at her because even Leah knew there was no way to deny that nearly every single word Bella spoke was truth — her speculation on how hard the past six years had been on Leah, the consequences she felt at being away so long.

The potential cost of what she and Embry were doing …

Still, as hard as Leah tried not to think about it, she caught herself tuning out the conversation at the dinner table on more than one occasion. When Embry, Jacob, and Bella's voices drifted somewhere into the back of her mind, certain words — certain pieces of what Bella said earlier — resonated much closer to the front.

_Maybe you needed to come back for more than just other people._

_Maybe you needed to come back because you stayed away too long and the entire time you were away, you were missing a piece of yourself. You were missing what truly mattered to you …_

_You held them together, Leah … whether you knew it or not._

_Offered a promotion …_

_Maybe you weren't sure you'd be around to take it ..._

It was the reasons  _why_ Bella said it that Leah couldn't fucking wrap her head around.

The words the other woman spoke were foreboding in a way Leah hated. They were assuming and callous and made entirely  _too much_ sense. Even if it  _were_ the case — even if it was something Leah wanted, she didn't understand how Bella could be so sure and how she could say it with such confidence. She said it like she was certain everyone would welcome Leah back into their lives with open arms when she'd done everything in her power to keep them away. She said it like she was positive Leah's family would forgive her — like she would forgive  _them_ for practically giving up on her and doing everything short of exiling her from their lives.

She said it like she was confident Leah would come to see the reasons she never should have left, the reasons she should have come back sooner, and the reasons she should come back again.

Bella was so sure, but Leah  _wasn't_.

She had no idea if she could ever bring herself to believe she belonged in La Push, or if anything could be done to convince her that removing herself from that life  _wasn't_ the best choice in the long run. After so many years of telling herself something completely different, Leah had no idea  _how_ she could ever believe the others needed her there … that maybe she needed them.

Or if she could find a reason to stay …

Blinking, Leah was suddenly back in front of Jacob's house, his face coming into focus. He lingered on the top stair, his hands shoved in his pockets. Leah didn't linger on him, her gaze inherently shifting behind him instead.

Her eyes traveled until eventually, she could see Embry through the screen door.

He was still inside the house, his frame accentuated by the soft light coming from the living room. He was laughing at something Bella said, her voice not far from where he stood, the two of them carrying on a conversation Leah could probably hear if she really wanted to listen.

She didn't, so she pulled her gaze away, trying not to intrude on a conversation that wasn't hers. Instead, she focused on anything besides Jacob — the tree line in the distance, which she could clearly make out despite the darkness, the first few stars dotting the early night sky, the moths circling the porch light.

Eventually, though, she ran out of things to look at. With a deep breath, she allowed her eyes to land on Jacob's pensive expression. Holding the air in her lungs, she did her best to steel herself, somehow unable to believe she was going to escape the day she was stuck in  _without_ more words.

After all, she figured maybe they could just do a little more ripping of the bandage that night — at least that way it would be over with.

"It wasn't so bad," she finally spoke, her voice low as she responded to Jacob's comment about dinner. "A lot better when I  _know_ it's gonna be you who opens the door."

Jacob smirked, releasing a hearty chuckle. "Good point," he agreed. "Still, I'm glad you did." His features were softer, more sincere, as the conversation shifted. Glancing down at the ground, he descended the last two stairs until he was level with her. "This needed to happen — not just dinner, but you coming home … even if this is the only time you come, which I hope it's not."

Chewing on the inside of her lip, Leah shrugged, offering him a halfhearted smile. She knew Jake wasn't fishing for any kind of answer, but she kept her lips pressed tightly together, silently ensuring any potential word vomit would stay where it belonged.

Even if she didn't miss how her eyes again drifted over Jacob's shoulder, landing on Embry for a single moment just before she talked herself into speaking.

Ignoring how her stomach inexplicably twisted, Leah focused determined eyes on Jacob before her brain was able to come up with something completely unassuming.

"Jury's still out on that one," she whispered, the corner of her mouth twitching against a smile.

Jacob nodded, his smile fading slightly to match hers. "I kind of figured." His words cut off, and Leah watched him, hooking her thumbs in her pockets as Jacob shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly buying himself some time for more words — more ripping.

Leah sighed heavily, pushing more of her weight down on the balls of her feet, almost like she was anchoring herself to the ground or bracing for some kind of imaginary impact. "What's on your mind, Jake?"

Jacob's jaw tightened before he glanced up, matched by Leah's raised, apathetic eyebrows. Finally, his lips parted and he drew in a sharp breath, pushing the words out with his exhale.

"Listen, Leah, now that you've been to the house, in the morning, I'm going to tell the entire pack that you're home."

Regardless of how Leah thought she might react, she wasn't expecting Jacob's words to knock the breath from her lungs, or to kick that imaginary anchor right out from under her. She took a step back before she could really think about it, her heart suddenly hammering inside her chest. In that moment, it didn't matter that she'd already seen many of them. A majority of them already knew — Embry, Quil, Paul, Seth, Jake. It only left Jared, the two newer wolves, Brady and Collin, and …

Leah's mouth fell open in shocked dismay, even though it took her an infinite number of moments to find any kind of words that could possibly give life to what was going on inside of her. "Jake … you … "

Still, Jacob anticipated what she was going to say before the thought could fully form, his black eyes trained intently on her dazed expression. He cut in before she could stammer out any type of response.

"Leah," he interrupted quietly, taking a step forward, the movement putting him directly in front of her. " _I_  don't want to be the one to tell Sam, which is why I'm telling you this now and why I didn't do it at dinner. I'm going to have this conversation with the entire pack in the morning. I  _have_ to, before things happen and potentially get out of control. I'm going to tell them I knew, because I  _did_ and I think it'll help take any negativity that might come from the news away from you and put it on me instead. I'm going to explain to them that regardless of how they feel or if there's any anger or hurt feelings, they need to deal with them  _after_ Seth's wedding because that is what comes first this weekend. Still…" Jake hesitated, leaning down slightly to look Leah in the eye — to make sure she was really hearing what he had to say. "I'm also going to remind them that you are  _still_ a member of this family — just in case they've forgotten — and when you left, it was what was best for you, no matter how long it's been. And it doesn't matter who thinks who did what, you  _will_ be treated with decency and respect."

He paused, eyes widening slightly as the silence settled between them. The only sound punctuating the thickness of it washed over Leah's lips in the form of shallow, quick breaths. "Do you understand?"

Closing her eyes, Leah nodded automatically, trying to pull in a breath and ease the tightness in her chest. The words sounded so familiar, not unlike ones he'd spoken to her in a small room at a hotel so many miles away.

They were words she appreciated then.

They were words — despite how she could barely catch a breath, and despite how she could feel her focus waning — she appreciated in that moment.

"But, Leah," Jake continued, reaching up.

Leah inherently stiffened when two large hands gently squeezed her shoulders.

"I don't want to be the one to blindside Sam with this. I don't want to risk the fallout something like that might cause if that's where he finds out along with everyone else, which is why I don't think I should be the person he hears it from."

Shrugging vehemently out of Jake's grasp, Leah shook her head, crossing her arms tightly in front of her chest. "What are you saying?"

She knew what he was saying.

Jesus, she  _knew_ what he was fucking saying. She didn't have to ask …

Jacob's shoulders lifted and fell with a heavy breath. Letting his arms fall to his sides, Leah could see in his face that he was preparing to answer her anyway. "What I'm saying is...I think it should be you who tells him."

Leah's heart stuttered in her chest, the pressure enough to make what little air she held in her lungs spill over her lips in an audible groan.

The thought alone nearly made her taste bile in the back of her throat, the mere idea of it already tearing at something inside of her. She knew she would have to do it eventually, she fucking knew …

Something about it was different. Something about the possibility of it actually  _happening_ was different.

Jacob was asking her to face Sam, that night, before anything else.

She could feel it kicking in, that fucking flight-or-fight instinct she miraculously hadn't felt in weeks, at least not to the degree it was coursing through her veins in that moment. It prompted her, begging her to turn around and save what was left of her sanity following a day that had practically ripped it right out from underneath her.

Somehow, though, that anchor was back, keeping her feet on the ground and refusing to let her move.

 _Somehow_ , Bella's words chose that god damn moment to flash through her head, surfacing from the blood she could feel pulsing in her ears.

_But if you can put the bad memories aside, if you can make peace with them and put it behind you, I think it might feel different …_

Squeezing her eyes shut, Leah suddenly knew what Bella meant, even though it might never have been what the other woman intended.

_If you can make peace with them …_

_If you can put it behind you …_

Leah knew … there was only one way to do that.

And in turn, she knew what else Jacob was asking. He was asking her to not just speak to Sam. He was asking her to stand in front of him, to look him in the fucking eye and tell him she was back.

Fuck, she didn't know if she could …

In that moment, all she could see were flashes — flashes of the  _last_ time she stood in front of him, her body frozen and stunned as she looked down on him. All she could see was the hatred in his eyes, lined with hints of red — red fucking  _everywhere_. All she could make out was the outline of his mouth moving, a crystal clear memory she tried for years to forget. All she could remember was the perpetual worthlessness ingrained in her because of it and everything she had done to herself — everything she allowed herself to be given — in her quest to forget  _exactly_ what that memory and all the ones that followed felt like.

_It didn't matter…_

The way Jacob was looking at her only reinforced what she already knew.

She would have to do it eventually, even if, in that moment, she couldn't bring herself to believe she was anywhere close to being ready.

Leah shook her head, but she didn't open her eyes, her throat dry, burning. "I don't know if I can…"

" _I_  think you can," Jacob insisted, his affirmation barely missing a beat.

"Why?" Leah blurted, her eyes springing open, widening with an irrational insistence. She took a sudden step back from him, poised to move away. "Tell me why you think it needs to be me."

He had to say it. He had to fucking say it loud. She needed a reason — one she already knew, but one she desperately needed to hear from someone else. She needed  _a reason_  to endure what it would likely do to her.

"I think you know why," Jacob replied patiently, taking his own step and negating hers. "You ran. You ran for years, and you know better than anyone, Leah, you can't run from this now that you're here. But aside from that, he needs to hear it from you. You'll understand why once you do it, I think, but he needs to see you in front of him so you can look into his eyes and he can look into yours and maybe understand why it was you left, and hear in  _your_ voice what it did to you and why you decided to come back."

Squeezing her eyes closed, Leah brought her hands to her temples, rubbing them almost like it would clear the thick mess of thoughts in her head. It didn't matter, though, because everything he said made sense. It didn't change her reluctance, not like she was hoping. It didn't change the fear inside her, something she hardly ever felt. It didn't change the reality of it and the anxiety Leah couldn't help but feel, all of it lined with a simple truth — a simple knowledge of how easy something like this, something like facing Sam, could undo everything she'd worked so fucking hard to put back into place.

She didn't want to lose that.

She didn't want to go  _back_ there.

She  _couldn't_ …

"Jesus, Jake, I just...I can't..."

"You  _can_ ," he interrupted quietly, sensing her hesitancy, her distress reaching out for him. She couldn't hide it; it escaped her through the way she watched him and the way she couldn't seem to temper rough, shallow breaths. The way she couldn't stop her frame from trembling. "And if you do, I can talk to Jared and the pups tonight instead — then, as a pack, we can all figure out in the morning how to move forward knowing what we know."

Leah frowned, her fingernails digging into the skin of her forearms, almost like the pain could hold her back from speaking more demanding words. "Knowing  _what_?"

Jacob heaved a deep sigh, but the corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. It was a comforting smile, a confident one, meant to instill the same kinds of feelings in her.

_An Alpha trying to soothe a distressed member of his pack …_

Leah tried to ignore the visceral shudder that ripped down her spine before Jacob finally spoke. "Knowing that you're here...finally, and acknowledging the fact you still have a place here," he replied. "That even if you don't stay here physically, your  _presence_ will remain because you chose to come back. You were ready for it, and that means making sure they understand that at some point, you could still step up and fill that place, should you want it. I know they do, even if it's been long enough for some of them to forget. I know they want it."

Leah grimaced, opening her eyes and shaking her head furiously. "I told you, Jake... _I_  don't want this anymore," she muttered from between clenched teeth.

A ripple of something passed across Jacob's expression, yet she couldn't quite place it. If she didn't know any better, she would have likened it to disbelief.

Leah's fingernails dug even harder into her flesh.

"I know," he finally continued, his voice slow and steady. "I'm not asking you to want it, but you're here, and you're home...with your family and your people. With  _us_ , and I have to prepare my pack for everything that might mean, and I need you to be prepared as well. It will be better this way, Leah. You'll see."

Letting out a breath, Leah had to swallow back the overwhelming wave of red-hot anger she felt at his words. She had to bite back the urge to tell Jake to go to hell, to stop pretending like he knew what was best for her. Still, she couldn't bring herself to say a single fucking thing, peering out of the corner of her eye instead to see Embry finally approaching the screen door. Bella followed closely behind, marking the end of Jacob's time.

Giving Leah a single moment to imagine it, what the conversation would sound like if it was Embry was in Jacob's place. What he would be saying to her, and what he would be assuring her she was capable of doing.

She knew. Without question, she knew — he would be telling her the same thing.

"Fine…"

Jacob's eyebrows arched high in anticipation, letting the silence linger like he was waiting for her to either say more or say it again, she didn't know.

Even though the moment she opened her mouth, Leah suddenly had to resist the urge to throw up all over Jacob's shoes.

"You deal with your pack in the morning, Jake," she breathed instead, closing her eyes to gather some shred of courage to finish what she planned to say. "How you handle them has nothing to do with me, but if it's so important to you for me to tell Sam I'm here … I'll do it."

Before Jake could respond — before Leah could think anymore about it — the slam of the screen door startled her, not quite doing enough to drown out her pounding heart as the noise pulled both her and Jacob's eyes behind them.

Embry was standing at the top of the stairs, the porch light spilling over his face, his eyes completely black. There was a tentative frown resting on his mouth, like he was walking in on something he wasn't supposed to see.

"Everything okay out here?" Embry asked cautiously, his eyes shifting quickly between her and Jake. The concern in his voice was enough to make Leah's breath catch in her throat, to make her stomach lurch against the sheer irony of it.

As she swallowed past the mass in her throat, a scuffle of shoes on hardwood caused Leah's gaze to falter. Her eyes dropped to Embry's right in time to see Bella step around him quietly, a similar concern in her eyes. One that mirrored the exact same glaze covering them when she and Leah were in the kitchen earlier that night.

Taking a deep breath, it required everything inside Leah to offer them both the most convincing smile she could manage and to not let the sudden war inside her show.

"Yeah," she finally replied, her voice cracking beneath the weight of it. "We're good."

Embry still looked skeptical, his wary gaze lingering a little longer on Jake, who lowered his eyes long enough to take a step back, a silent confirmation the conversation was over. Ignoring the ache in her gut, Leah tried to offer Embry another smile when he finally ripped his stare from Jake and focused softened eyes back on her.

"You ready to go?" he asked, his expression easing slightly.

Leah nodded, trying to remember how to move her feet, to remember what was required to leave the spot she was standing in. "Yeah."

After an excruciatingly long moment, Embry finally let the corner of his mouth lift in some kind of half-smile. Turning to say his goodbyes, he lifted one arm, pulling Bella closer into his body and leaving a gentle, familial kiss on the crown of her head. "Thanks for dinner, Bella," he murmured, his chin resting against her hair.

She pulled back, smiling as she peered up at him. "Anytime," she replied quietly, poking him playfully in the ribs just before he released her and she took a step back, turning her gaze on Leah when Embry descended the steps. "Thanks for coming, Leah. It was really good to see you."

"Yeah...you, too," Leah offered, not missing how the unease in her lifted just enough to notice the moment Embry stopped, his shoulder brushing hers. "Dinner was great. Thank you."

Bella nodded, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, one hand resting lazily on the swell of her belly. "Well, you know you're welcome here any time, too. Next time, don't stay at Oceanside. You can have the guest suite above the garage if you really need the space." Releasing her lip, Bella offered Leah one last friendly smile. "See you tomorrow at the bonfire."

Goodbyes were said, and Leah knew she needed to move. Still, she couldn't convince her feet to cooperate, knowing what was going to happen when they left, the reality of it still hanging around the edges of her awareness. It didn't let up, not even when Jacob and Embry exchanged their own goodbyes and she peered up to find Jake regarding her hesitantly. Embry nudged her softly, just enough to somehow persuade her to move before she could really think about it.

As Leah turned to go, with Embry already a few steps ahead of her, she barely had time to take one of her own before Jake's voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Remember what we talked about, Leah."

Sucking in a deep breath, Leah stopped. Without turning around, she lowered her gaze to the stone walkway beneath her feet, offering the ground a half-hearted nod and hoping Jacob would see it.

"I know," she muttered.

She was still frozen in place when Jake spoke again.

"I can see her, you know…"

Lips parting silently, Leah peered up from the ground, noticing for the first time Embry had also stopped in front of her. He had turned around, facing both her and Jacob, a tangible curiosity and concern once again clouding those ebony eyes.

Closing her eyes to shut out what that look did to her insides, Leah's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she tipped her head toward the sky. "See who?"

Jake's low chuckle was clear in Leah's ears.

"That person … the one you told me you left behind when you left here. I can see her when I look at you, even more now than I could when I saw you in Chicago. I don't think that's a coincidence, Leah."

Leah kept her eyes closed, letting the words sink in. She didn't argue — she  _couldn't_ argue, because as much as she hated Jake for pointing it out, she knew there was absolutely no point in denying it. She  _knew_ she wasn't the same person she was two months earlier. She wasn't the person she was before she decided to come home.

And she  _definitely_ was no longer the person Embry found that night in a bar she used to call home, the one who had been so good at running but was never quite able to lose the things that chased her.

It felt good to hear it, even though, coming from Jacob's mouth, she wasn't sure what to do with it — or how it would help her get through what she was about to do.

Opening her eyes, Leah lowered her gaze, immediately finding Embry's from where he stood a few feet away. His features were hard, contemplative eyebrows lowered as they watched her, the darkness casting shadows across his face. Leah lingered, knowing the words had resonated somewhere inside him, too, realizing they had piqued a curiosity she would have to put to rest.

First, she had to tell herself to move … one last time. She had to tell herself to turn her head, to peer over her shoulder and afford Jake a small, reserved smile — to use it as a simple, silent way to tell him she was thankful for the support he'd given her, even if she couldn't find the right words in that moment to tell him.

The last thing she saw before she turned and her feet finally moved was Jacob's own smile, a subdued gesture that crept across his expression. Laced with a barely tangible pride, it closely resembled one she'd seen somewhere else.

It was a smile she never felt she deserved, but one she had to count on now more than ever.

She had to believe Jake's words. She had to believe everything Embry had told her up until that point — everything she had told herself — in order to do what Jacob asked of her.

The silence inside the truck was nearly deafening once it was out on the road, the vehicle slowly heading back toward the heart of La Push. Taking a deep breath, Leah leaned her head against the cool window. Closing her eyes, she wished Embry would say something. She wished he would ask what she and Jake talked about so she could say it out loud and tell him what she had to do. She wished he would so he could tell  _her_ she needed to do it, and so he could tell her it was a good idea.

A handful of minutes passed before Embry shifted next to her, his soft exhale the only noise Leah could hear besides the road rushing beneath the truck's tires.

"You okay?"

Leah didn't respond; instead, she slowly lifted her head from the glass, a response to some sense of inexplicable urgency inside of her. Eyes opening, she scanned the dark land around them. Focusing, she needed to see where they were, because if she was going to do this she had to do it now. She didn't have much time. She had to do it before she forgot why she needed to and before she could let her head get the better of her.

She had to do it before she could talk  _herself_ out of it, because she knew she would, and it wouldn't take that much.

Leah's mouth was dry, the words heavy, when she finally spoke. "Can you turn up here?"

She refused to look at Embry, but it didn't matter — she could feel his eyes burning holes through her anyway. Holding her breath, she waited for his response, his stare weighing her down because she had no doubt  _he_ knew exactly where they were.

He knew whose driveway rested several yards away.

"Leah … " His voice was low, uncertain.

"Embry," she interrupted, still focusing on the road ahead of them — on the approaching mailbox rather than her pounding heart. His reluctance wasn't lost on her or how Embry slowed the truck anyway, something in her voice compelling him to listen and do what she asked. Leah swallowed thickly, blinking wildly to get some kind of grasp on her focus. "I just … need you to do this for me, okay?"

Embry made a choked noise in his throat, the simple sound of it stabbing at something inside Leah. Holding her breath, she heard him shift uncomfortably in place. "Did Jake ask you to do this?"

Leah closed her eyes, forcing herself to fucking breathe when she heard the montone ticking of the truck's blinker.

She swallowed again. "Yes … "

Embry's exhale was rough and labored, the action inadvertently pushing a distressed noise from his chest. "Leah," her name slipped from his throat in a hurry and there were traces of palpable unease in his voice, " _don't_  do this for Jake. This isn't something you should do for anyone but  _you_."

Wincing, Leah opened her eyes just in time to see Embry turn into the driveway, the truck moving at a glacial pace. She wanted to tell him it wasn't just for Jake — that even if, in that moment, she failed to understand why, she was hoping like hell she  _would_ once it was all over.

"This doesn't have anything to do with Jacob, Em.  _I_  need to do this," she whispered, her fingers curling tightly around the door handle, the words intended just as much for her as they were for Embry. "I need to get it over with."

Leah swore she heard Embry growl, and it took everything inside her not to look at him.

"I'm going with you."

She shook her head forcefully, keeping her eyes focused on the mailbox as they passed it. "No, you're not."

"Leah … " The pitch of his voice reeked with an irrational persistence, and it wasn't lost on Leah how the steadiness in it faltered … or how a desperation she couldn't comprehend lay not too far beneath the words.

She ignored it.

"Stop!" Leah exclaimed, just as they approached the crest in the driveway. She couldn't see the house from where they were, and a larger part of her was thankful for it. "Just stop here. I'll go the rest of the way."

She knew better. She fucking  _knew better_ , but she chose that moment — the moment the truck came to a complete stop, and the one when Embry let a frustrated growl rip from his chest — to look at him anyway.

It was enough to make her stop. It was enough to make her see.

And even though he refused to look directly at her, what she could see in the corner of his eye — a heavy cloud of dread and a frenzied, irrational worry — was almost enough to make her change her mind, to tell him to forget about it and turn the truck around. It was almost enough to make her think she should simply let Jake do things the way he planned without her help, if it meant she could take that look out of Embry's eyes.

He shook his head, wildly, like he was fighting something from within.

Swallowing down the panic she could feel rising in her throat, Leah's eyes widened slightly, ignoring how each one suddenly burned. Craning her neck, she searched his face, not missing how his fingers trembled when he unwrapped them from around the steering wheel.

She wished he would just fucking  _look at her_.

The intensity of the longing she felt — the hope she suddenly held for that strength and confidence she could always count on from Embry — swept away anything Bella had said to her earlier. Anything Leah had thought as a result of it was long gone in that moment, because she knew …

There was no way she could get through what was about to happen without Embry. There was no way she could  _do it_  if she wasn't  _positive_ he would be waiting for her when it was over.

Which meant whatever was happening in front of her, she needed to fix it. She needed to do her best to make it better before she could move.

"Embry …"

Her voice was a whisper. Unbuckling her seat belt, she edged closer to him. She tried to catch his eyes, hating how they darted back and forth, looking anywhere but her. "Tell me this is a good idea."

Embry's lips parted, and Leah didn't miss how his hand curled tighter around the steering wheel, muscles taut beneath the flesh of his forearm. A noise escaped his throat — a sound that was meant to be words, but wasn't able to make it past whatever was plaguing his insides.

"I don't think it's something you should do by yourself."

The fear — the anxiety — was even more prominent in the unsteady timbre of his voice.

Leah shifted until she faced him. One hand reaching out for the dashboard, she gripped it tightly. "I  _have_ to…" she insisted, her voice cracking beneath the weight of what she said.

Pushing out a heavy breath, Embry peered out the window, glaring at nothing in particular. One hand released its hold on the steering wheel. He curled it into a fist instead, bringing it to his mouth for a single moment before he finally —  _finally_ — turned his head, letting his gaze meet Leah's pleading eyes.

Seeing the moment of fire in those ebony eyes — a carnal, unwavering promise — she suddenly understood.

"If he hurts you  _at all_ , Leah. If he says  _anything_ , I fucking swear to god … "

The words stopped before he could finish, and Embry pressed his lips into a thin line. The fire in his eyes was gone, but his jaw tightened and his chest heaved with restrained breaths. Inhaling deeply, Leah gave in to everything inside her, letting her body do what it wanted. Inherently leaning in, she released her grip on the dashboard and reached for Embry, her fingertips lightly tracing his jaw.

She tried to smile, especially when he met her eyes one final time, even though she was unsure of how she ended up comforting Embry or how the overwhelming need to do it obscured everything else. Still, she knew she had to do it, because she couldn't leave him the way he was.

Doing what she could, she held those eyes until they softened. She left her fingers where they were until his breaths were less strained. She tried to soothe the fear he no doubt possessed inside him, one that was entirely too similar to her own. It was a fear stemming from a belief that one wrong word from Sam could undo everything she — everything  _they_ — had worked for.

"Give me five minutes," she breathed, inexplicably able to offer him a placating smile.

Embry's jaw twitched beneath the strain, and he held her eyes for several more infinite moments before he finally spoke. "Five minutes," he agreed, his voice steady but still strained. "Any longer, and I'm  _not_ staying in this god damn truck, Leah."

Her fingers instinctively reached up, pushing gently through the strands of hair just above his ear. "I know. Five minutes. I'll … be okay," she promised, even though she didn't entirely believe it herself.

Still, it gave her the time she needed. It convinced Embry enough to finally nod, to reach up and take her hand in his, holding it a moment before he finally pulled it away from his face. Placing it in her lap, he only released it after a handful of excruciating seconds, the action a silent affirmation that she was free to go and he would be waiting when she was done.

It was enough. Before she could lose what little nerve she had, Leah turned, opening the door and climbing from the truck without another word. Closing the door behind her, it allowed her feet to move with a purpose she didn't anticipate and one she didn't completely understand. Climbing the crest in the driveway, it allowed her to keep her eyes trained ahead of her with an unsettling focus.

She could do this…

_She could fucking do this._

She repeated it to herself, over and over. Letting the sounds of the forest around her fill her ears, the loudest noise came from the gravel beneath her feet. She focused on it all until she saw it, until her determined gaze landed on a house she hadn't seen since six years earlier, when it all happened.

_Since that night …_

It was enough to send her reeling as every ounce of breath Leah held in her lungs disappeared. Her entire body turned to lead and she stopped walking, every single shred of fortitude disintegrating. Her pulse pounded in her ears and she frantically searched her mind, suddenly unable to remember why she was there, what she was doing. It was all gone.

Now that she could see it, she had no idea what she had been thinking. She saw  _everything_  — the warm light pouring through the kitchen window, the wisps of smoke curling from the chimney, the potted plants on the porch steps, and the planters of herbs lining the railing. She saw the seasonal wreath hanging on the door.

Everything about it was picture fucking perfect.

She had to swallow bile in the back of her throat, and she hadn't even set foot on the front porch.

_The door ..._

Her gaze traveled over the wood. It was the only thing protecting her in that moment, the only thing keeping her from the reason she was there in the first place.

It was the only thing protecting her from the two people who resided at the root of every mistake and every fucking stupid decision she'd ever made, from every bit of pain Leah had taken on herself in order to escape facing the worst of it.

_Fuck, she wasn't sure if she could do this …_

She  _had_ to, though, no matter how badly she trembled, no matter how hard her heart pounded, and no matter how much the sight of it all had her wanting to lean forward to wretch the dinner Bella had made for them into the dirt.

She needed to do it … because she could hear Jacob's words in her head.

_You ran for years, and you know better than anyone, Leah, you can't run from this, now that you're here …_

She heard  _Bella's_ words.

_If you can make peace with them …_

_If you can put it behind you …_

Fuck, she knew they were right. She knew she needed to listen to them. She knew it, because she had known it herself all along. She had seen — experienced — what running did, and the person it turned her into.

She needed to face this head on.

 _He_ needed to know she was there.

It was about so much more than the weekend, so much more than Seth's wedding, and so much more than what Jacob and Bella had told her. If there was one thing Leah knew better than she ever had before, the only way to move forward was to face the things holding her back.

The only way to move forward was to  _stop running_ , to prove to herself she was capable of it, and do it for herself before for anyone else.

She needed to face  _him_ \- the other one, the one who told her to leave, the person who had told her to stay away, and the first person who made her believe she wasn't wanted.

The first person who ever made her feel completely worthless.

Still, she couldn't get rid of that lone, single thought from earlier — the one that feared how seeing Sam again could erase every single step that led her to his door. She couldn't help but remember what she saw pass through Embry's eyes moments earlier and how she understood it in that moment better than she had before.

She knew what she had to do, but that  _fear_ … it was so fucking strong, so consuming, in a way that turned Leah's blood ice cold.

_It wanted to cripple her..._

Breath catching in her throat, Leah's chest heaved against the strain. The tightness was back, becoming worse with each passing second, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

Closing her eyes, Leah brought her hands to her face, trying to fight everything inside her. Resisting the urge to dig her fingernails into her forehead out of sheer frustration, she tried to control the violent tremors rolling off her fingers. Pulling them back, she curled her hands into fists before lowering them, keeping them at her sides where they belonged.

She couldn't help the thought as it passed through her head. It was a flash before it was gone, causing her to remember all the times Embry had offered to be there and all the times he'd wanted to go with her. She remembered the one from moments earlier, and how every single time he asked, she'd turned him down.

She wished with everything she was worth that just this one time, she'd said yes.

He wasn't there, though.

He wasn't, but she was … and she couldn't just fucking stand there. She couldn't because each excruciating second that passed only made it worse — the heat in her veins, the shaking in her bones, the infuriating knot in her stomach.

Somehow, she convinced her feet to move.

Somehow, she crossed the distance separating her from the front porch, ascending the steps in two swift strides. The sound of her shoes moving across the wooden porch boards kept time to the heavy, foreboding noise in her ears — the only explanation for it the way her heart pounded inside her chest.

Somehow, she  _stopped_ , just inches from the same door she'd been staring at moments earlier.

 _Somehow_ , her arm raised from her side, fingers curling into a fist and lifting to the aged wood.

Every single fucking thing in her body stopped — ceasing, falling silent — the moment she rapped it against the sturdy wood.

Lips parting, Leah closed her eyes, taking a self-preserving step back. Putting what distance she could between her and the door, she drew in a breath when she heard the sound of someone moving behind it, knowing it would be the last one she'd take for a handful of agonizing moments.

Every bit of blood in her body turned to ice the second she heard the door handle turn.

Her eyes were still closed when when a warm rush of air washed across her face, spilling from the open door, pushing out with it the strong scent of cinnamon, cherries, and rose petals.

_There was more …_

It hit her like a fucking brick wall. She didn't need to open her eyes to know who stood in front of her. Every part of her that once recognized every nuanced layer of his presence crawled its way from some recess in her mind. Every bit of his scent — a strong musk laced with hints of leather — worked its way past the rest, filtering unforgivingly into her nostrils.

In that moment, all she could remember was the last time she smelled it.

The sound he made — a subtle, choked noise of shock — was the thing that pulled her back. It was the only sound that could make her remember where she stood and that she had to open her eyes. She had to face this, more so than anything else, and opening her eyes in that particular instant would be the hardest fucking part.

Still, Leah knew if she could get through what awaited her when she opened them, it might be possible to get through everything else.

Ignoring how the rest of her was paralyzed, Leah drew on every ounce of strength she held in her body. Every conquered fear, every test she'd passed, every fucking step she'd taken — she used it all, every last bit of it, the moment she opened her eyes.

Grasping for it, she hung on for dear life as the sight of the man in front of her literally knocked the breath from her lungs.

He looked  _exactly_ like she remembered.

Sam hadn't changed. He was still broad and tall, his features gruff and hard and kind all at the same time.

He hadn't changed one fucking bit, but Leah didn't let her eyes linger. She didn't let her gaze explore or take it in. She didn't take the time she  _knew_ would unhinge her and make her second-guess the fact she was standing there. She ignored what those forlorn, deep brown eyes did to her insides as they gaped at her in disbelief. Hand curling tightly around the edge of the door, his lips parted, his head rocked back and forth ever so slightly. It was a gesture she'd seen a lot of in the twenty-four hours leading up to that moment, and a product of the same skepticism she'd heard slip from his throat earlier.

Still, she waited. She didn't speak, because a part of her — an instinct she couldn't seem to shake — kept waiting for him to  _say it_.

It kept waiting for the word to fall from his lips, to see that cold steel return to his eyes. It held out, anchoring her — preparing her for the moment he remembered what he'd said before, even as Leah found herself unable to shed the feeling he didn't want her there as much as she didn't want to  _be_ there.

She waited … for him to remind her she wasn't welcome.

For him to tell her to  _leave_.

His lips parted, eyes widening slightly. Releasing a breath, one word tumbled out with it.

It was a word she hadn't counted on, one she hadn't expected.

"Leah … "

She didn't want to close her eyes, but she couldn't fucking help it, the sound of him speaking her name hitting her like a punch to the stomach. She could feel it again — that urge to run, to turn around and leave before he could tell her to, before he could give her a new, legitimate reason to feel how she was feeling, and before he could bring up all the old ones that kept her away.

She couldn't … because she had to speak. She had to face him, even if it was only for that moment.

Leah managed to open her eyes, ignoring how his pierced straight through her. Squaring her shoulders, her fingers curled into fists at her sides — concealing how her hands trembled — and she planted both feet on the porch, keeping her where she was.

She focused just long enough to keep her from backing down, to allow her to remember what she went there to do and to remember she was strong enough to do it.

_She was strong enough …_

Leah couldn't explain why Jacob's words chose that moment to resonate somewhere inside her frazzled, anxiety-ridden brain — why they chose to emerge from somewhere inside her pounding heart, picking that second to come front and center.

" _Why does it need to be me?"_

" _I think you know why, Leah … "_

She knew …

Because she was  _fucking strong enough._

"I'm here…"

Her voice was choked and barely a whisper, but it didn't matter. She knew he could hear her.

"For Seth's wedding … " she whispered, watching how his eyes slowly blinked at her words, not missing how he hung onto them or how everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.

Holding her breath, she also held his gaze, ignoring the wild disbelief in Sam's eyes. She refused to look away, letting him know — somehow, even if she didn't know  _how_ — that this time, it wasn't up to him whether she stayed or went. It didn't matter what he thought about her being there in front of him. It didn't matter if she was in La Push.

_Because her life wasn't fucking up to him …_

"I'm home," she said again, her voice rising that time, the words more firm, "and I just thought you should know."

Sam didn't say a word. He allowed one foot to step forward, and slowly, he opened his mouth to speak.

Leah wasn't interested in that. She didn't want to hear what he had to say. She didn't wait to see what look would bleed across his features next.

Instead, her body suddenly turned the opposite direction, feet moving purposefully across the porch and down the steps, across the grass and onto the sparse gravel.

Her blood was raging through her veins, but she didn't want to fucking hear it. Leah said what she needed to say. She said it, she turned around, and she walked away. It wasn't because he told her to. It wasn't because she was running.

She walked away because she could.

* * *

From the moment Leah climbed out of the truck and crossed the street to his apartment, Embry remained a few steps behind her.

Sitting in the truck at the end of Sam's driveway, he'd given her longer than five minutes. He'd allowed her more time, and it nearly killed him as he watched the clock, his breaths coming harder as each minute went by. His pounding heart ticked off any remaining seconds and he just fucking sat there, waiting, somehow putting aside what he made Leah promise him.

But he didn't  _forget_ …

Embry ignored the thrumming in his veins and how the blood pulsing through each one threatened to incinerate every fiber inside him. At one point, he was pretty sure the wolf inside him would go ballistic if he didn't get out of the fucking truck, if he didn't phase, or if he didn't go after her.

If he didn't  _protect what was his_  …

He didn't know what he was supposed to do with that feeling. It wasn't that he didn't trust Leah — it had nothing to do with that.

It had everything to do with not trusting the others.

It had to do with not trusting  _Sam_ …

Embry hadn't counted on how different it would be, on what it would mean the moment they were out of Chicago and Leah came back to La Push. It was all he fucking  _wanted_ , but he hadn't realized just how much he would have to trust his pack brothers. He hadn't counted on how much he would have to trust Bella, or how much he would have to trust Leah's family to protect those fragile pieces of her he knew still existed. He had no choice but to  _fucking trust_ they'd play their part in strengthening those pieces if they wanted her to see how much she was missed, how much she was wanted, and how much they needed her there.

He had so little control over all of it, but he trusted them. He  _had_ to.

It also meant he had to trust Emily, a person Leah had yet to face.

He had to trust  _Sam_ …

He didn't, though, and he couldn't deny it. He  _didn't_ trust Sam — not with her. He didn't trust what he might say or what he might do. Embry didn't trust him to know, to recognize what he'd done so many years ago, and he couldn't be sure similar words wouldn't come as easy to Sam as they did then. He couldn't be sure Leah wouldn't be just as easy to cast aside as she was before.

_He didn't fucking trust him …_

Somehow, the man reined in the beast. Somehow, the man won that battle for dominance, his faith in Leah and what she needed to do — trusting her to know what was best in that moment — overpowering a more feral, inherent desire to keep any harm from coming to her, one he'd never felt so strongly until that moment.

Still, it didn't stop the war inside him. It didn't stop the way his blood boiled just beneath his skin, and it didn't stop him from imagining the things he'd do to Sam if he did  _anything_ to undo, to take away, what Leah had fought so fucking hard to find.

When he saw Leah come up the crest of the driveway, her arms tucked tightly across her chest and her eyes trained on the ground, Embry thought the burning inside him would ease. He thought it would go away as soon as he could see her again.

It didn't … not even when she climbed into the truck, lips pressed together tightly as she pulled the door closed behind her. Not when she refused to look at him, despite how long he watched her, counting her breaths, each one a little too even as she concentrated a little too hard on the action.

Embry finally took a deep, drawn-out breath through his nose, and it took him a second to realize it was a mistake, a scent he knew entirely too well filling him in a single moment.

It was a scent that belonged to one of his brothers … and it was all over her.

He fucking  _hated it_  … in a way he never had before.

Mixed with a thick unease radiating from her body, it reignited the fire inside him. As Embry clenched his fist tightly around the steering wheel, he managed to push three small words from his throat. They were words that begged her to talk to him, to tell him something to ease  _any_ part of the upheaval inside him, because Embry knew.

The two intense, parallel reactions — the potency of both, animal and man — were only making the making the other worse.

"Are you okay?"

Leah closed her eyes, but she still refused to look at him.

Three agonizing seconds later, she finally nodded.

Embry was able to turn the key in the truck's ignition. Somehow, he was able to get the truck on the road and head toward home without wrapping the vehicle around a tree in the process. He was concentrating, but he wasn't. Every piece of concentration that was worth a shit in that moment went toward watching Leah out of the corner of his eye. He watched her face for anything, for any sign of how it went or what Sam said.

All he fucking wanted to know was if she really was okay, because her simple, wordless gesture wasn't enough to comfort him.

Her silence, the way she gripped herself, only further agitated the wolf. It only heightened the man's worry. It only made the wolf push harder, adamant in a way that had less to do with anger and more to do with a consuming desperation Embry couldn't push down, strong in a way he thought might cause his heart to pound straight from his chest.

She gave him nothing.

All the way back to his apartment, she didn't speak a word and while the man in Embry knew she was probably only processing what happened, it wasn't enough.

_It wasn't fucking enough …_

He needed her to speak. He needed her to say  _something_  —  _do_ something, just to show him Sam hadn't taken anything from her. He needed to know she wouldn't run the moment he turned his back.

He needed it to prove to the wolf she was safe.

To prove she was still  _his_ …

Because mixed with the tangible unease, the anxiety seeping off her in thick waves, was  _that scent_  …

Trying to ignore how the blood still buzzed through his veins, the heat tore at his muscles. A shudder rocked Embry's frame as he followed her across the street and toward the stairs, his heavy gaze clinging to the outline of her form in the darkness. He held on to it for dear life, unable to understand why she was walking so fast.

It didn't matter. He couldn't wait … not another fucking second, because he suddenly wasn't sure if he could follow her up to his apartment. He wasn't sure if he could go inside where the silence would no doubt be smothering, or if he could pretend every part of him in that moment wasn't needy and despondent in a way he suddenly couldn't get a grip on.

He didn't recognize the reaction he was having to it all, but he needed her to speak. He needed to touch her and look into her eyes, because only then would he know.

He needed her to touch  _him_ …

Embry barely noticed how his steps lengthened or how easily he closed the gap between them. One hand curled into a fist while the other ran through his disheveled hair, fingers digging into the strands. Gripping them tightly as he pulled, he thought maybe a jolt of pain from something else could bring him back to Earth.

It didn't, and she was closer now. Her posture shifted, her head turning just slightly, almost like she was anticipating something. For a moment, he thought she might look over her shoulder, and Embry could've sworn her steps slowed as he felt his fist uncurl at his side, as he slowly lifted his arm, trembling fingers reaching for her in the damp, night air.

He could've sworn she stopped walking completely just as his hand wrapped around her wrist.

A surprised noise slipped from Leah's throat anyway as Embry pulled, yanking her back from where she stood. Her body twisted, facing him as it crashed roughly into his. Before she could protest, Embry's feet moved beneath him. His other hand curled around her shoulder, the sounds of night drowned by the rhythm of her pounding heart as he pushed her against the building.

Trapping her, it forced her to stop. It forced her to fucking look at him.

And she did …  _finally_.

Embry's breath caught in his throat, lungs burning as he released his grip on her wrist, that same hand lifting as he struggled with the wolf inside, restraining him as he leaned toward her. Bracing himself, his fingers splayed wide against the smooth wood at Leah's back, just beside her head, his other hand rising from her shoulder. His fingernails traced the skin along the column of her neck as he searched those eyes, the man looking for any sign of the same things he saw that first night he ran into her back in some classless bar in Chicago. He searched for traces of the same worthlessness from that night in her kitchen after the concert, for the same desperation that held him in place in a dark bar bathroom, when she realized she couldn't keep running.

That's what he saw — shadows of a similar desperation, although for some reason, he knew it didn't mean the same thing. He saw something else, a liquid gaze peering up at him, filled with something else from that night. It was a welcome helplessness, mixed with an undeniable resolve. It was something he'd seen many times after, when she finally understood he wasn't going to fucking give up, that he was never going to stop caring — that he was never going to stop protecting her.

That same look let him know to him she understood — he would never let her walk away, not until she knew …

Embry wasn't sure who moved first, if it was him or her. It didn't fucking matter though as Leah's warm hands were suddenly framing his face, her fingers burning into his skin. It was all he could feel as he let himself be pulled to her, the sudden pressure of her hot, pliant lips moving desperately against his enough to extinguish the agonizing fire inside of him, igniting an entirely  _different_ kind.

Bringing the wolf closer to the surface.

It was easy to lose himself — and it wasn't the first time he had, not with her. The way her body pressed against his, it was all he could do not to let the beast take over completely. Everything about the way she moved only encouraged him. Every curve of her frame, grinding unforgivingly against his, was amplified by the unyielding wall at her back.

He was losing himself in  _her_ , but it wasn't quite enough to shadow what else he needed. There were words he still wanted to hear, a part of him  _needing_ to know this was still different. He needed to know Samhadn't taken her back to that place, that she wasn't using her movements — her mouth against his, her hands gripping his face — as a way to mask something else.

That she wasn't trying to forget the same way she used to.

Fuck, a part of him didn't want to care. In that moment, the beast inside Embry only wanted one thing … to eliminate  _that scent_  from her flesh, to massage the sweat he could already feel collecting on her body back into her skin, replacing it with  _his_ scent. It was the same part of him that pushed again, pinning her against the wall, causing the breath to spill from her lungs and wash across his lips. It was the same part that pulled his fingers down her neck, each one tracing rough, pressured patterns along her shoulder and clavicle as her mouth fell open against his. It was the same part that wanted to fucking drown in the heady sweetness of her breath.

It was the same part that coaxed his hand lower, one blazing palm disappearing beneath the hem of her shirt, the feel of her smooth, supple flesh under his enough to drive him mad.

And fuck if the man didn't want that, too …

Still, he  _did_ care … about her, about all of it, and the man needed to know. Embry searched, trying to find some semblance of control beneath the fire in his veins. He had to find the will to let her go — to pull his hand away from the swell of her breast, to stop his mouth from moving against the line of her jaw, to stop himself from responding to the whispered gasps leaving her lips, to stop his lungs from breathing in every fucking bit of her scent.

He needed to stop …

He  _couldn't_ stop …

Embry — every part of him — wanted too much in that moment. He needed it … too many different things … but he couldn't fucking stop.

Because after everything that happened to Leah that day — after all the words and conversations that took place — this was something he could control, and it  _meant_ too much to him to be able to prove it to her. He needed to show her, just in case she'd forgotten somewhere along the way.

Just in case Sam did anything that might take her from  _him_ … again.

He let his hand fall, digging into her waist, but he didn't pull away. He closed his eyes, reveling in the way she fucking trembled against him. Brushing his lips against her cheek, he didn't miss how her nails dug roughly into his biceps — how even if he wanted to move, even if the beast inside would allow it, there was no way he could because she was keeping him there.

She wasn't letting him go either.

His other hand lifted, pushing through her hair, twisting through the strands, his breath suddenly coming in muted pants.

He couldn't move. He couldn't stop, but he still needed to know.

Lips parting, Embry sucked in a lungful of air, fisting Leah's hair in between thick fingers. He pulled, just hard enough to illicit a low, intoxicating moan from Leah's throat as he tilted her head back to allow it. Eyes still closed, he traced his nose down the slant of her neck, stopping when it reached her pulse. Breathing in, he pressed his lips to the spot, drinking in the undiluted scent that was impossibly and undeniably  _her_. Letting his mouth linger there, he didn't miss how her arms wrapped around his neck, how tightly she held him, or how she was trying with everything inside her to keep him where he was.

Drawing in one last solitary breath, he whispered the words against her skin.

"I need … tell me … "

He didn't miss how her breath caught when he spoke. He didn't miss how desperate his words sounded, each pair pushed out on the wave of a labored exhale, a product of disjointed thoughts he couldn't quite form against everything else going on inside him.

Her sigh was gentle compared to how her fingers twisted through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, compared to how she tugged, pulling a growl from somewhere deep in Embry's chest. The noise buzzed against her skin, a visceral shudder rocking Leah's body in response.

Embry's breaths were harder, more strained as he waited for what felt like an infinite number of moments. As he tried to hold the warring parts of himself back, he knew he was failing miserably when his lips parted, placing another hot, open-mouthed kiss to her pulse, his tongue tracing along the flushed skin. Tasting her, his head swam with the shift in her scent — how nearly all traces of anxiety were gone, replaced by a palpable veil of safety and  _need_.

A need she  _only_ carried for him.

Still, he needed her to say it. She needed to acknowledge it … before it could go any farther.

Leah shifted and her grip on Embry tightened, her lips tenderly brushing against his temple in a way he could only describe as soothing, in a way that silently reassured him just how much she understood — that she knew what part of it was about, and what was required of her.

"I saw him," she murmured, the words barely loud enough even though Embry heard every single one. "I'm okay… "

There was truth in the way she said it. The words were not broken … and it had to be enough.

Embry  _needed_ it to be enough, in a way he still didn't fucking understand.

He pulled himself away from her, just long enough for his frame to straighten, not missing how Leah's wide, pleading eyes followed him. Combined with her words, her eyes finally held everything he needed to see in their depths, and it really  _was_ enough in that moment and she really didn't need to say anymore as Embry felt the war inside him ease. It freed him just enough to capture her face between large hands, just enough to lean down until his lips were moving despondently — frantically,  _thankfully_ — over hers.

It was enough, but there was more.

Her hands clasped his waist and she pulled away, just enough for Embry to pause. Opening his eyes, he found her already watching him, the warmth of her breath still heating his lips. He held her gaze long enough for more words to spill from her mouth, more proof that he didn't really need but words he was just as grateful for, They were words she no doubt needed to say out loud, words spoken for her benefit as much as his.

"It's over," she murmured, her lips ghosting against his, prompting Embry to again close his eyes. He savored the way it felt, allowing it to somehow wrap around his veins and extinguish the last bit of fire that remained.

"And I'm still  _here_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy emotional chapter, but yes ... THAT just happened. :\
> 
> As always, thanks to bkhchica and niamhg (who recently jumped back into this little party) for making sure this chapter hit all the right notes, and an EXTRA LARGE thank-you to ChrissiHR, who rose to the challenge of not telling me to take a hike as she works on breaking me of some very bad - and, er, excessive - style habits. You rock, lady! :)
> 
> Anyway ... thoughts?


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